We Can't Do This Anymore
by CharlotteAshmore
Summary: Whispers in the night, unrequited feelings, the question of should they or shouldn't they. A quest to comfort her gets slightly out of hand which leads to misunderstandings and more than for which either Daryl or Carol bargained. Late season 6
1. The Green-Eyed Monster

**Disclaimer #1:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

 **Disclaimer #2:** This is a work of pure fiction. All characters and events depicted in this story are entirely fictitious. Any similarity to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

 **Tags:** *Carol Peletier/Daryl Dixon, *Rick Grimes, *Michonne, *Maggie Rhee, *Glenn Rhee, *After 06x11 "Not Tomorrow Yet", *Angst, *Smut, *Masturbation, *UST, *Feels, *Happy Ending

 **Summary:** Whispers in the night, unrequited feelings, the question of should they or shouldn't they. A quest to comfort her gets slightly out of hand which leads to misunderstandings and more than for which either Daryl or Carol bargained.

 **Rated:** E

A/n: My darling friend Mels – BettyBubble to you lot :D – sent me a naughty prompt. Loving her as I do … how could I say no? I never dreamed it would grow this out of control (though it really shouldn't surprise me). This one's for you, sweetness!

We Can't Do This Anymore …

By:

CharlotteAshmore

Chapter One: The Green-Eyed Monster

His hands dug into the ivory wood of the window sill, glaring out over the quiet streets of the community. Daryl's teeth gnashed together as he fought the urge to smash his fist through the double-paned glass. _How could she?!_ That was the question clambering against the walls of his cranial cavity with unrelenting force. _How could she kiss that fuckin' lumberjack? That asshole cain't keep her safe … ain't even on th' same level of badass as her._ And from what he'd heard from Abraham about the shit which had gone down at the construction site – willing to leave Francine to the walkers – he didn't want Carol anywhere near him.

But it was her choice, and it rubbed him raw. It was his own fault. He'd felt her closing off more and more since they'd left Atlanta, and he had no one to blame but himself. Daryl raked a hand through his damp hair, pushing away from the window to pace the carpet. Life out on the road after Grady had done them no favors, the fear, hunger and loss of hope they'd all suffered. He was so tired of losing people.

When he'd found her after Terminus, he'd had hope they could move forward, but after they'd lost three more members of their family before finding themselves ensconced behind Alexandria's walls, they were lucky the sanity of their group had somewhat remained intact.

Carol had taken on the persona of _Suzie Homemaker_ , and frankly, he didn't know who the hell she was anymore. She kept to herself when she wasn't working on some covert mission to benefit the group. It had seemed innocent enough, more than familiar with her need to keep their family safe, but now he wondered if it was just another excuse to push them away … to push _him_ away. And he'd let it fucking happen! He'd been so busy running off with Aaron or Rick, doing shit which needed to be done; runs, recruiting, fighting off assholes in burned out forests … gawd, the list was endless. He hadn't realized how far he and Carol had drifted apart until he'd seen her … he'd fucking _seen_ her sitting on that porch, her lips glued to that prick's!

It took every ounce of inner strength Daryl possessed not to imbed his fist in the drywall separating their bedrooms. He hadn't said a word – really, what _could_ he have said – turning on his heel and leaving the gates to cool off in the woods. Rick nearly had a stroke when he hadn't been able to stop Daryl from leaving, but he had given no fucks as he'd disappeared into the solace of the trees. But not even the blessed relief of nature could calm the storm brewing within him, his brother's chortling and snide snickers ringing in his ears of _jealous pussy_ not helping in the least.

His fault … In the beginning, if he hadn't been so goddamned scared of losing her, thinking it was better not to give into his feelings because it would hurt less when he eventually lost her, he never would have found her in the arms of another man. Carol would have been his. _Gawd, I'm such a stupid prick!_ He loved her so much, it was going to kill him either way. _Stupid, stupid, STUPID! Argh!_

Daryl had taken out his frustrations on the few walkers roaming through the surrounding area and hauled himself back home well after midnight. He'd seen Carol's light on from the crack beneath her bedroom door as he'd made his way to the shower, but the knowledge she was home, safe in her own bed instead of staying the night with Tobin only raised a new barrage of questions he hadn't appreciated.

"Fuck it," Daryl growled, searching through his jacket pockets - where he'd dropped it over the chair in his room - for a cigarette. He felt caged, held prisoner within his own thoughts, and would welcome the heady comfort of nicotine coursing through his veins. It was late, going on two if the battery-operated clock on his nightstand was correct, so there was little worry he'd wake his family. Shoving the half-full pack of cigarettes into the pocket of his pants, along with his lighter, he stared down at his bare feet, toes curling into the carpet and the sleeping pants clinging to his hips. He wouldn't even have to worry about someone coming upon him in his semi-dressed state.

Daryl flung the door open peeking out into the hall to make sure the coast was clear, and Rick wasn't sneaking through the house in search of cookies again. He could make his way downstairs and out to the front porch to have a smoke with none the wiser, and hopefully clear his head enough to get some sleep. After that deal Maggie had made with the leader of the Hilltop community, they were going to busy preparing on the morrow.

He'd barely taken a step out into the hall when he heard it …

Daryl closed his eyes and let his head fall back onto his shoulders, some of his anger giving way to stronger emotions … pain, concern and the need to comfort. It had been a long time since he'd heard Carol in the grips of a nightmare, but it was a sound he'd never forget. Her tears had always had the power to break him. He reached out a hand, gripping the knob firmly to ease the door open, unable to let her suffer alone despite how furious he might be with her.

He wasn't prepared for the sight which met his gaze, thankful she couldn't see him there standing frozen at the door. _Definitely NOT a nightmare._ His tongue darted out to wet his parted lips, the breath hitching painfully in his chest as he watched her busy fingers caress the delicate pink folds between her parted thighs. _Fuckin' Christ!_ Daryl couldn't take his eyes from her, miles of creamy skin, bared to his lustful gaze.

Daryl raked her from top to toe, taking in the lacey pink camisole she wore in deference to the warmth of the room, her knickers having been tossed on the rug next to the bed. Her other hand rested on her breasts, fingers plucking at the taut bud of her nipple which pressed against the lace, and he cursed silently, feeling his body respond. There was his woman … _No, goddamnit, she's not mine …_ getting herself off because her new idiot loverboy couldn't get the job done, while he stood there trying to crush the door knob in his fist. His rage reasserted itself, turning his vision red as his upper lip curled in disgust. He should turn around and go back to his room, leave her there to take care of things on her own.

However, he wasn't thinking clearly, to say the least. Would she be embarrassed to see him there? Would she feel guilty and say nothing? Or would she welcome him to finish the job Tobin hadn't been able to satisfy the first time? He wanted to bury his face in her hot dewy heat and feast on her until she screamed his name and forget all about that jackass one street over, wanted so badly to show her it was him she needed, him she loved.

Daryl didn't give two shits about shying away from her, his fear of intimacy nonexistent in the face of his anger. He wanted what he couldn't have. And then a short gasp echoed through the stifling stillness of the room, her body ceasing its feverish movements, drawing his gaze to her wide horrified blues. _Caught … busted oglin' her in a private moment. Fuck it!_ He waited for the tell-tale feel of mortification to burn his cheeks, yet it never came.

A little whimper escaped her throat, pushing past her lips amidst ragged breaths as he took an involuntary step forward. "Daryl …" she croaked, her tongue darting out to leave a wet trail over her lips, pulling her hand from her still-throbbing core, the other reaching for the sheet to cover herself. A firm shake of his head had her hand stilling in mid-air, and she dared not disobey, too stunned at his presence to do more than stare, afraid if she did he might leave. And that was the last thing she wanted at that moment.

Daryl's name on her petal-soft mouth broke him. His heart battled with his mind, anger dueling with his need to fulfill her. _I should leave her wantin'_ waging war with _Show her what we could be._ In the end, it was his heart which won the siege, though a healthy dose of his anger lingered.

Carol's eyes swept his body as he moved closer, widening when they settled on the tent he was making in his pants. _Oh, c'mon, woman … like y' don't fuckin' know what y' do t' me all th' damn time with those gorgeous smiles and teasin' innuendo._ He grasped her wrist firmly and pulled her to a sitting position, ignoring the sound of protest fluttering in her throat as he slipped into the bed behind her.

His calloused fingertips slid from shoulders to wrists once, twice before he brought her hands up to cross over her chest. He laid his left arm over the both of hers, so she would hold the position, pulling her back to rest against his chest. Despite his less than gentle touch, he kept his wits, refusing to hurt his woman.

Carol tilted her head to the side when she felt his warm breath tickle the shell of her ear, shivering as he rubbed his scruff against her soft skin. The arm not holding her immobile against his chest drifted lower, his fingertips playing over her warm body like the strings of his crossbow. She gasped, arching her hips as his hand covered her core, the heel of his palm pressing over her mons.

"Daryl … I –" she moaned, but he was quick to cut her off. He didn't want to hear anything but consent pass those sweet lips.

"Shh …" he hushed her. "Jus' need t' know one thing … y' want this, Carol? Tell me now. Y' want me, an' I'll stay."

She trembled in his arms, turning her head to bury her face against his throat, her voice a needy whisper. "Y-Yes."

His eyes slammed closed as a surge of lust flooded his cock now nestled against Carol's perfect ass. _Fuck, what the hell am I doing?!_ And it was his brother's voice which answered in the recesses of his mind. _Yer showin' yer woman it's you she shoulda chosen, baby brother._ Daryl's arm tightened around her, his lips whisper soft against her neck as his fingers trailed through the light dusting of hair covering her mound. She tensed slightly, and he could feel her hesitancy, but she once again relaxed into his embrace, her chest rising and falling with what he hoped was excitement. He traced her slit, teasing her, never so happy Merle Dixon had been his brother. No matter how much Daryl had bitched and moaned being forced to listen to tales of his brother's sexual exploits, he was thankful they were embedded in his memory, so he wouldn't fail his woman.

Carol's back arched as much as possible within the confines of his embrace as his touch grew bolder, fingers dipping inside for the little bundle of nerves he knew was the epicenter of her pleasure. It throbbed beneath his questing fingers, begging to be caressed. He circled it slowly, tentatively as he waited for her response.

"More!" she gasped, her voice a breathy whisper, hips pressing up against his hand. "Please, Daryl."

 _Goddamnit! She's gonna make me cum in my pants like an untried teenager, for fuck's sake!_ Daryl gnashed his teeth together, a vivid image flashing across his mind of just where she'd been earlier … or rather who'd she'd been with. _Well, she sure ain't thinkin' about that asshole now, is she?_ A low growl crawled its way out of his throat as he explored more of her, his fingers circling her entrance before delving two inside. He nearly swallowed his tongue as her hot wet walls clenched around them.

She struggled to break his hold, but it was too secure. There was no way this would end well if he allowed her free reign to touch him, and he didn't want to expose her to the unbridled fury still simmering beneath the surface of his skin. The sounds she emitted were driving him wild, but he couldn't seem to rush through this. He wanted her to remember _his_ touch and the feel of _his_ body molded to her back as his fingers set a steady pace, pumping in and out of her, driving her closer to her peak.

 _This what y' want, sweetheart?_ Daryl bit down on his lip to cage the words behind his teeth. He wasn't about to bare his soul to her, so she could laugh at him. His breathing became just as labored as hers the higher she climbed in her pleasure, wriggling incessantly against his erection. Daryl felt the overwhelming need to get out of there before he embarrassed himself.

"Cum for me, Carol," he purred against her ear, the pace of his fingers quickening. "Let go … I wanna feel y' come for me."

Carol cried out, the sound muted as he covered her lips with his. He didn't want her waking the entire household, and why deny himself this tiny concession? To let the taste of him linger on her lips and rid her of all thoughts of the idiot lumberjack?

When she'd sufficiently recovered, he eased Carol to her side and covered her with the sheet. Daryl's head was a mess now that his anger had somewhat subsided, the only thought on his mind was the need to get away. He needed to clear his head, and he couldn't do that if he stayed with her.

"Daryl …" she called out to him, the uncertainty in her tone causing him to pause with his hand on the doorknob. "Don't go."

He didn't have a choice, refusing to look back as he headed to his room. _Fuck … what th' hell did I jus' do?_

*.*.*

Carol stared at the door, eyes wide and lips parted, still trying to catch her breath as she watched Daryl walk away. "What the hell just happened?!" she croaked, her throat dry as the desert.

She reached for the water bottle she kept on her nightstand and gave herself a hard pinch. _Nope, I'm definitely not dreaming,_ she thought wryly. Really, she'd known beforehand, her fantasies never having been quite so vivid. She took a long drink and capped the bottle before lying back on her pillows to rake a trembling hand through her sweat-dampened curls.

This was not what she'd expected when she'd come home that evening after Rick's little meeting in the church and an impromptu stop at Tobin's. God, she groaned, Tobin. That had been an epic disaster. Since their arrival in Alexandria, she and Daryl had been pulling away from one another. It seemed as if they didn't even talk unless it had something to do with some covert operation, pooling their resources to stay one step ahead of the Alexandrians. Even after her cover had been blown with the appearance of the wolves and then the ensuing devastation from the remnants of the mega-herd, they couldn't seem to find their way back to each other.

Tobin was a nice enough guy – safe – and he treated her with respect, and yes, even a little bit of awe. She was so tired of not feeling _anything_. It seemed as if every time she tried, her heart was broken just a little more. Carol scrubbed her hands over her face, inwardly cursing her stupidity. She never should have kissed him …

 _Carol tried not to flinch as Tobin's lips met hers, willing herself to feel something. It felt like she was kissing a dead fish! No spark, no fire, no heat whatsoever. It wasn't like it was when she was with Daryl, she admitted to herself. She could brush a kiss to his brow and feel her blood ignite. He was who she wanted, not this gentle man who had no clue as to how to survive in this new world._

 _She pulled away, fighting her instincts to wipe the taste of him from her lips. "I'm sorry … this was a mistake," she apologized hastily._

 _"No, it's ok," he rushed to assure her, clasping her hands in his._

 _Carol shook her head, firm in her conviction, already castigating herself for such an error as she pulled her hands from his grasp. "No, it's not. I –"_

 _"Yes, it is … I feel it too."_

 _Her lips quirked sadly, still not wanting to hurt his feelings. "But I don't."_

 _Tobin sat back, a furrow appearing between his brows as he rubbed his hands anxiously on his jeans. "Oh … so, uhm … why did you kiss me?"_

 _Seeing the genuine hurt in his eyes, Carol felt bad for him, but not so horrible she wanted to pretend with him. "I was trying to feel something. It's been a long time since my husband died." God, please don't let me puke! "I'm sorry, I just … I just can't."_

Carol had left him sitting there, feeling like an ass for leading him on. She should have known it would be useless to try when Daryl was so firmly embedded in her heart and soul. It didn't matter how far apart they'd drifted since joining this community … it was still him she wanted, him she loved. She'd gone home and climbed into the shower, wanting to scrub the entire encounter from her skin, feeling as if she'd betrayed the man she loved. He'd consumed her every thought until she'd laid down on her bed and let them pull her into her fantasies of him.

Carol had thought – for the briefest of moments – she'd drifted off without realizing, leaving her to drag her fantasies to be lived out in her dreams. She hadn't hesitated to reach out for him, drawing him in, reveling in his touch. The way he'd molded himself to her back, a familiar comfort from having shared his bedroll more than once and woken to find him spooned against her. Oh, how she'd wanted to touch him too, to hold him and caress his weathered skin. He'd set her aflame, and she'd never wanted it to end, but why … _why_ had he done it?

What had made him come to her room? Had she made a noise or unconsciously called his name? Daryl had always been the one to soothe her from her nightmares … Oh, god! This was her fault!

Her teeth sank into the soft tissue of her lip, trying to quell the tears forming behind her lids. What if he'd somehow felt obligated to do what he'd done? He didn't want her, did he? It was no wonder he'd run. The tears flowed freely as she curled onto her side and wrapped her arms around her knees, desperately fighting to stifle her sobs. He'd run from her, she silently wailed, and now would do his best to avoid her.

How would she ever be able to fix what was now more broken than ever?

A/n: Sooo, should I continue? I'm sorry I've been away so long. First I was recovering from foot surgery, and then we moved house, so it's been crazy since the end of February. I haven't forgotten about 'Threads', but when Mels asked me to write this for her, I just couldn't say no. I promise to get back to that one when I'm done with this. Thanks for hanging in there with me. Great big shout out to my betas BettyBubble and Geektaire. I cannot live without you, ladies. Mwah! Reviews are love! Thanks so much for reading!


	2. Rumor Has It

Chapter Two: Rumor Has It …

Daryl cracked his eyes open with a groan, his head pounding and a grinning Judith there to greet him. She patted his cheek, her tiny fingers tugging at his scruff, and despite the pain in his head, he couldn't help but grin at his second favorite person in the world. He pushed himself up off his stomach and rolled to his side before she launched herself at his chest, pummeling him with her small fist.

"Dare!"

"Hey there, sweetheart," he murmured sleepily as he cuddled her, Judith's giggles filling the room when he made a growling sound and kissed her neck.

A throat clearing had his attention turning to the man standing in his doorway, coffee mug clasped in his hand. "You want to explain to me why I've been spending months trying to get her to say _da da_ and her first word comes out as some form of _your_ name?" Rick smirked, one brow raised.

Daryl snorted and reached into the drawer of his nightstand to retrieve a box of animal crackers – one of several he kept there just for his little Asskicker – and opened it for her. "I dunno. Maybe she jus' likes her uncle Daryl better. Is that it, sweetheart?" he cooed to the toddler.

Rick shook his head and chuckled at his friend's soft-spoken words. Daryl Dixon was the most fearsome fighter he'd ever known, but when it came to the two-year old, he was putty in her hands. "You keep spoiling her that way, no one's going to be able to do a thing with her."

"Pfft," Daryl scoffed. "She ain't spoiled. Even if she was, it ain't hurtin' nothin'. Let her enjoy it while she can … before she's gotta grow up an' learn t' fight like th' rest of us."

Rick reached for his daughter and settled her onto his hip. "Yeah, I'll give you that. You planning on staying in bed all day? We still need to get with Andy. He's going to draw us up some maps, so we know the lay of the building. I was thinking we might postpone another day … give us a better opportunity to prepare and be confident about our plan."

Daryl nodded, surprised at Rick's level-headedness. There had been times when less planning had gone into one of his ideas, and he knew how important this mission was. Their continued survival was dependent on it. "A'right, lemme change, an' I'll meet y' downstairs."

Rick paused at the door as Daryl swung his legs over the side of the bed and he got a good look at the hunter's back, but he held his tongue. "You … uhm, ah … talk to Carol last night?"

Daryl reached for his navy plaid button-up, hiding the hot flash of anger in his eyes behind his hair. "Yeah, for a minute when I got back. Why?"

Rick shrugged noncommittally as Judith happily munched her crackers. "No reason, just thought she might've told you what was bothering her. She seems a bit off this morning."

Daryl's fingers stilled on his buttons as his eyes narrowed. "Off … how?"

"I dunno … just off. Staring off into space, jittery, I guess. You think she might be nervous about this raid?"

 _Oh, yeah, she might be nervous, but it sure as shit ain't because o' th' raid,_ he thought, fighting to keep the satisfied smirk off his face. "Prob'ly had too much coffee, s'all," he deadpanned.

Rick closed the door as he left, giving Daryl the privacy he needed to finish getting dressed. Once he was gone, the archer let the smile bloom fully over his face. He'd done a lot of soul-searching in the wee hours of the morning, finally coming to a decision about his feelings for Carol near dawn. His anger the past evening had enlightened him to just how much he wanted her in his life, how much he cared. How much he loved her and had for longer than he could remember. He wasn't about to let Tobin sweep her off her feet and claim her for himself. Hell no! And he wasn't going to settle for the way things had been since coming to Alexandria either. No more of allowing her to avoid him so she could play her little games.

He was all in, and it was about time to show her. Last night had just been a prelude to what he wanted for them. His anger had kept him from giving in to his doubts and fears, worry over how her touch would affect him. Just as she was in every other aspect of his life, it didn't surprise him to find her suited to fit perfectly in his arms. _Fuckkkk … now if I can jus' convince her._

Daryl pulled on his vest and made sure he had his buck knife in place before heading downstairs. He missed his crossbow, his fingers rubbing against his chest where the strap usually lay. It was almost as if he'd lost an appendage. He desperately needed coffee, and as long as he was in the mood for confessions, he might as well admit he was anxious to see Carol. And just because he had a plan, of course, what seemed like the entire family was crowded into the kitchen.

Glenn sat at the table eating what appeared to be a carrot muffin as he spoke in low tones with Rick. What? No cookies? His woman was slipping, he thought, biting back a chuckle. Daryl stuck his arm out between the two men, grabbing a muffin as his chin jerked in Maggie and Michonne's direction before he stuffed half the confection into his mouth. What was that … acorns?

"'Sup, little man?" he greeted Carl where he sat at the island with Judith in his lap, trying to get her to eat some applesauce. He tipped Carl's hat forward and made a silly face at Asskicker before he finally caught sight of his goal … Carol.

Daryl schooled his features into his usual scowl, his gaze raking her petite form with the utmost scrutiny. Her hands trembled around the mug she held, her eyes would not hold his but for the briefest second, and a rosy blush tinted her cheeks, highlighting her adorable little freckles. He wanted to toss her over his shoulder like the caveman he was and haul her perfect ass back upstairs. However, they had things to work out and he didn't know if he was quite ready for such a display in front of so many witnesses.

He watched her lips part, a silent gasp escaping as he moved into her space. He wanted to kick his own ass for never seeing before now how he affected her with his proximity. How could he have been so blind … or was it he'd just not been ready? Daryl felt a surge of need wash over his body as he caught a faint hint of peony from the body wash she favored. Well, hell, he was definitely ready now.

"Mornin'," Daryl drawled as he inched forward just a bit more, his chest nearly brushing hers as he met and held her gaze, arm stretching out to reach for a cup in the cabinet above her head. He could get lost in those deep azure pools. Giving himself a mental shake, he poured coffee from the carafe and rocked back on his heels, taking a small sip. His gaze spoke volumes to her, the heat between them enough to set them both ablaze. _Here I am, woman … yours. I'm through runnin', done hidin'. Gonna try t' be th' very best I can possibly be … for you._

"Daryl …" she breathed, her hand rising slowly, the Carol he'd known for what seemed like forever, standing before him without pretense. She shifted closer and he inwardly rejoiced. He could feel the heat of her hand on his chest through his many layers and his lips quirked triumphantly to know he hadn't been wrong, to know she cared as much as he did. Only to have the front door close with a snap, and heavy footsteps invade the family atmosphere of the kitchen.

He knew who the intruder was without having to confirm it with a glance over his shoulder. Carol's eyes lost the hopeful sparkle which had glimmered there just moments ago, and her happy housewife smile creepily bloomed over her lovely features as she pulled her hand away, ready to greet their visitor. _Goddamnit!_ Daryl could feel the rage attempting to leak from his every pore. He just didn't understand how she could go from being ready to kiss him right there in the middle of the kitchen - surrounded by their family - to happy and smiling at the asshole who was nothing but an unwelcome intruder … at least in his opinion.

"Hi, Carol," Tobin said with a little wave where he stood next to Abraham – who'd let him in behind him.

"Why're we all sitting around cluckin' like a bunch of hens when there's plannin' and shit to be doing?" the ginger asked before swiping a muffin.

Daryl slammed his cup down on the countertop next to the sink and spun on his heel before he said or did something she'd – because it sure as hell wouldn't be him – regret later. He barreled into the back door with such force, so eager to be gone, one of the small glass panes crashed to the tiles. He didn't care, he thought viciously as he headed to Aaron's where they'd be meeting Andy. All he knew was he couldn't stay there and watch his woman fawn all over another man.

*.*.*

Carol prayed her voice wouldn't fail her as she smiled brightly at the newcomers, offering coffee, juice and muffins to them before she dashed from the room. She closed herself off in the downstairs bathroom before she allowed the tears to fall, hugging her arms around herself as she slid down the door and landed on her rear atop the tiles. She couldn't - for the life of her – figure out what was going on with Daryl. If she believed in science fiction, she'd almost think he'd been taken over by the pod people. One minute he was her surly friend, the next, a man who only visited her dreams.

He'd stepped right into her space as if he owned it, subtly touching her with his body and nearly causing her to choke on the last bit of coffee in her cup. She'd never seen him hold eye contact with her for so long, and she'd felt as if he'd been looking directly into her soul, picking her apart to see exactly what she'd kept hidden from him. After what had happened the night before, she'd expected him to be shy and blushing, ready to run, his usual M.O., but he'd been assertive and confident and _Oh, my gawd, I want him!_ Daryl had broken through the walls she'd rebuilt overnight with a quirk of his lips and a low graveled _Mornin'_ which had sent so much heat unfurling through her body, she hadn't been able to think straight.

Carol angrily brushed her tears away. She couldn't afford for her family to see her having a weak moment. They depended on her to be strong, to carry on where others would quail at the task. But this situation with Daryl had her so confused, she didn't know what to do. Why had he stormed out when Tobin and Abraham had arrived? No explanation, no goodbye, just stone-cold fury. What was it, of late, which seemed to set off his temper as quickly as she could blink? It was almost as if he was …

A soft knock interrupted her reverie, and Carol pulled herself up from the floor and quickly splashed a bit of water on her face, trying to make herself presentable. She was surprised to see Maggie and Michonne both waiting patiently for her out in the hallway.

Carol grinned sheepishly, hiding her earlier upset. "Sorry, I didn't realize I'd been in there so –" She was startled as the women both grabbed an arm and pushed her back inside, slamming the door and throwing the lock to ensure their privacy.

"What's going on, Carol?" Michonne arched a brow in her direction, leaning back against the vanity.

Maggie crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. "What'd Daryl do?"

Carol offered them both a rather large fake smile and shook her head. "I don't know what you're on about, but –"

"Do you really think you can fool us?" Michonne asked quietly, her brows dipping in concern. "We know you, Carol. The creepy homemaker routine won't work on us."

"She's right, now spill," Maggie insisted. "There was so much heat comin' off the two of you earlier, I nearly sent Glenn to turn up the air conditioning." Her lips spread into a toothy smile. "Has it finally happened? Are you together now?"

Carol pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. "No," she lamented, clucking her tongue in disgust. "Honestly, I don't know what's going on between us." She pierced them both with a quelling glance. "And it's none of your business … either of you."

Michonne scrubbed both hands over her face and emitted a frustrated growl. "You two are ridiculous. I mean, how long are we going to have to watch the two of you suffer through this relationship before you figure out you're meant to be?"

Carol rolled her eyes. "It's a friendship, 'Chonne, _not_ a relationship."

Maggie wrapped an arm around Carol's shoulders. "Is there anything we can do?"

"We don't have time for all this drama, ladies. There's a raid to plan and preparations to be made." And with that, Carol left her friends alone in the bathroom to carry out her tasks for the day. She had to put Daryl - and whatever was going on with him - out of her mind … for now.

Michonne and Maggie watched her go before the latter spoke up. "Somethin' happened between them."

"Yup."

"I wanna know what."

"Oh, yeah."

Maggie tapped a finger to her chin. "Think Daryl would open up to Rick and Glenn? They're closest to him aside from Carol."

Michonne snorted. "Not a chance."

"Won't stop us from trying, though, will it?"

"Course not."

*.*.*

"Th' fuck is this?" Daryl eyed his two friends suspiciously as he stepped into the RV carrying the last box of supplies which needed to be stored in the vehicle. He'd done his best to ignore their silent exchange and shared looks of concern at the meeting with Andy, but it didn't seem as if the two were ready to let the matter drop. He had known he'd catch hell for his abrupt departure from the house this morning, but he was in no better frame of mind for a confrontation now than he had been then.

"Have a seat, Daryl." Rick motioned to the sofa-like bench and passed him a water bottle, moving to block the only exit. Glenn just looked nervous - as he usually did when confronted with the Dixon temper. Daryl glared for a few beats before he finally complied, seeing there was no escape. Neither Rick nor Glenn had been pleased when the women had cornered them on the way out with orders to find out what was going on with the hunter, filling them in on Carol's upset. He didn't know what they expected him and Glenn to do about it, to be honest. Daryl wasn't likely to be any more forthcoming with personal information than Carol had been.

"This 'bout this mornin'?" Daryl asked when Rick still didn't say anything. "Don't worry, I'll fix th' damn door."

"It's not really about the door," Glenn sighed, "but more about what set you off."

"And why Carol locked herself in the bathroom for half an hour after you stormed out," Rick added.

Daryl's chest constricted painfully at the thought of Carol needing to seek solace in the bathroom, but he quickly pushed it aside. What right did she have to be upset about his behavior? He'd laid himself bare for her, and she'd turned away to greet her loverboy. He'd been catching glimpses of them throughout the day, carrying out tasks Rick had set them to prepare for the raid, Tobin's hand on her arm or shoulder, much too close for Daryl's liking. That idiot wasn't deserving of her smiles!

His hands involuntarily clenched into fists, his knuckles white. He had to ease up on the water bottle he held before it exploded all over his friends. "Don't know what th' hell y'all are talkin' about, an' if I did, it still wouldn't be none o' your business."

Which was exactly the answer they'd been expecting. Rick shook his head mournfully. "Daryl, I'm not going to pry –"

The archer snorted and drained half the bottle.

"- but this raid is important to our continued survival, to our new trade agreement with the Hilltop. I can't have you going in there in this frame of mind and make some sloppy mistake which could endanger the group."

Daryl bowed up like a scalded cat, pointing an angry finger in the center of Rick's chest. "Man, fuck you! I ain't never done nothin' t' endanger th' group. I always put our people first!"

Glenn raked a hand through his hair, his mouth set in a worried frown. "When you were leading the herd away and found out what was going on here in Alexandria, Abraham and Sasha said you left them to come back here –"

"Our people were practically defenseless!" he growled. "An' I didn't leave 'em … I went back."

Rick planted his hands on his hips and hung his head before meeting Daryl's angry stare. "But you _did_ abandon them. Yes, you went back, but you could have put them in danger."

"We know how important Carol is to you," Glenn added, "but what happens this time if you go in there and your head's with her instead of focused on the raid?"

Daryl bared his teeth, his breath coming heavy and disjointed. She'd be there, he knew, but she was one of their most formidable fighters. She could handle her own, and he'd be near enough to protect her if necessary. "Y'all don't know shit."

Rick put out a placating hand when Daryl tried to move past him. He knew it was a fruitless move, but he wasn't finished, and he wouldn't have another chance to have his say. "Just get it together. Handle this thing that's got you ready to smash heads before we leave. We need you focused."

Glenn winced as Daryl pushed past Rick and left the RV, slamming the door behind him. "Well, that went well," he snarked dryly.

Rick huffed out a breath. "Like we thought it would."

"Maggie and Michonne aren't going to be happy we didn't find out what is going on between those two."

"Yeah … well, it won't be the first time we've ever had to sleep on the couch. And I'm pretty sure it won't be the last."

A/n: Thank you so so much for the response to the first chapter. Ya'll rock so hard! I hope you enjoyed this one too. As always, without my beta team, this fic would not be possible. Buckets of love for BettyBubble and Geektaire. Love and hugs, ladies!


	3. Let's Try Again

Chapter Three: Let's Try Again

Damn, he was tired, Daryl thought, making his way upstairs to his room. He'd shoveled down a dish of rabbit and rice casserole someone had left for him on the stove – probably Carol – but he'd barely tasted it. Having had little to no sleep the night before and then working all day preparing for the raid, he was bone weary and just wanted his bed. He heard the shower being turned off as he passed the bathroom, too exhausted to bother with one of his own.

Daryl shucked his vest and dropped his belt on the chair next to the door as he entered his bedroom, beginning on the buttons of his shirt. A squeaky hinge alerted him to who had been in the shower, and his fingers stilled, his eyes falling closed, a sigh pushing past his lips. Carol.

His anger had abated, leaving him somewhat depressed. He was being stupid, thinking she'd ever want to be with him. She deserved to be with someone who could make her happy, and it clearly wasn't him. Certainly not some uncouth redneck from the backwoods whose own family hadn't thought him good for anything.

He listened to her moving about in her room, pressing his brow to the wall separating them. She'd been so beautiful in her pleasure the night before … pleasure he'd brought her. At least, he was good for something. A pathetic little noise escaped his throat as he thought of her writhing beneath his hands, captive in his embrace, the sounds of her arousal filling the air. God, he wanted her so badly … to hold her again and drive her to her peak once more.

Would she allow him to touch her again? Could he watch her run off to risk her life on that raid without having just one more taste? He kicked off his boots, inwardly cursing himself for wanting things which would only torture him for the rest of his days. He glanced towards the door, taking a hesitant step forward against his will. If he died – and there was always a chance – he'd have that last sweet memory of her to take with him into the unknown.

One step turned into two until he lost count, finding himself at Carol's bedroom door. It stood open a crack as he still hadn't had time to fix it for her, the latch rebounding if she didn't give it a good firm slam sometimes. He was now thankful it was just another task which had been pushed aside in favor of more pressing matters. He could see her standing in front of her closet, rifling through her things, no doubt searching for something to serve as her night clothes.

 _Stop bein' such a pussy, Darylina,_ he could hear Merle's rather loud chiding in the back of his mind. _Either shit or get off th' pot, but goddamnit, do somethin'!_

Daryl gave the door a slight nudge, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror hanging on the inside of her closet door. One hand fell to her side, the other rising to secure the towel knotted around her body as her teeth bit gently at her lower lip, but she didn't ask him to leave or yell about the intrusion. _That's a good sign, right?_

He took a chance, crossing the short distance, holding her gaze, praying she wouldn't reject him. _Let me in, woman, please … just one more time._ He could feel the heat of her body as he stood behind her, barely an inch separating them, see her chest stutter as her breath hitched, smell the intoxicating scent of peony and sweet cream he always associated with her. Calloused fingers trailed over her free arm, pausing to ghost over the thin tracery of veins at her wrist before raising her hand to his lips to press a kiss to her palm.

Wide azure met focused cobalt as her body sighed back into his, closing the distance between them, yielding to his unspoken plea. If this truly might be his last chance, he didn't want to waste a moment. Carol seemed to be in agreement with the silent communication passing between them, turning in his arms and wrapping hers about his neck, her fingers toying with the hair at his nape. The towel loosened around her breasts and fell between them, pooling at her feet.

The desire, so evident in her eyes, sent a shiver to trip along his spine as her clever hands pushed the shirt off his shoulders. _No … not about me … never about me … only Carol … mine, if only for this night, this time … my woman … her pleasure …_

His work-roughened hands ghosted gently over her sides, fitting her flush against him, showing her proof of what she did to him. Chapped lips caressed the shell of her ear as he leaned forward, his whisper forcing a low moan from her throat. "Tell me t' stop, Carol. Tell me y' don't want me t' touch y', an' I'll leave. Jus' tell me what y' want, woman."

A little whimper fought its way past her lips as Carol buried her face against his throat. What was he doing? What had unleashed this sinful aspect of his nature, the thought whirled in her mind, nearly hysterical with the myriad emotions rampaging through her body. Emotions only _this_ man had ever been able to bring to the surface to crash through her carefully constructed walls. He made her _feel_ it all. There was no debilitating pain crushing her chest, no fear or sadness forcing a counterfeit smile to her lips to hide the real _her_ , no guilt to plague her every thought. No, there was only Daryl and the love she'd harbored for him for far longer than she even knew.

Just as he had the night before, he found _Carol_ in his arms. Her mask fell away, and she was the woman whose compassionate and loving heart had drawn an angry and lonely redneck out of his shell and showed him what an honorable man he truly was. She was _his_ Carol – friend, warrior, sister, mother, confidante, leader; someone different to everyone in the group - not the smiling homemaker capable of fooling the community with her innocence and smiles.

Carol could feel his uncertainty, his hesitancy to move too fast or go too far, and she yearned to set his mind at ease. "Daryl …" she breathed, tilting her head to the left to give him better access as his lips nipped a lazy path down the side of her neck. "Please, don't stop. Touch me," she gently commanded.

A shudder rippled through him as he lifted her into his arms, stumbling back into the wall next to the closet as Carol wrapped her legs around his waist and the heat of her core pressed against his arousal. Daryl pushed his own wants aside and regained his balance, purposeful steps carrying them both towards the bed where he set her gently upon the duvet. He knelt between her legs, nudging one with his knee, urging her to open for him. He groaned, feeling her dainty foot trace along his outer thigh through his cargos from knee to hip as he gazed upon her delicate pink flesh glistening with the evidence of her desire.

He braced a hand on the bed beside her head and lowered himself to let his brow rest against hers, savoring this moment between them, allowing himself to pretend – even for but just one moment – she was truly his; to dream it was him she loved, him she had chosen. But Daryl had never been good at fooling himself, and now was no exception. It wasn't him she wanted … just the pleasure he could provide. Yet, Carol would _not_ come away unscathed.

Daryl held her gaze as his fingers wandered gently over her soft skin, hiding nothing from her. He revealed more of himself to her there in the privacy of her room than he ever had with another living soul. His love, his desire, his need to own her heart, and his solemn wish to gift her with his own. When he let her go, he wanted her to take a piece of him with her. He wanted her to remember how she'd felt in _his_ arms when she'd be touched by another, see _his_ face, long for _his_ scent … because he would surely be tormented by hers.

Carol fisted a hand in his unruly hair, wanting nothing more than his kiss, that sweet connection she'd shared with him briefly the night before. Yet, he denied her. She was lost as to what this all meant, drowning in the lightest touch of his calloused hands. It was useless to try to discern his motivations or see past the firm resolve with which he held himself, but his eyes told a different story. There in those smoky blues … they held the answers she sought. Anger – of course, considering he'd been stewing in it for two days, fear – which could have been caused by a myriad of things, desperation – his eyes pleading with her not to push him away, and … _love_. Oh, god, how long had she waited to see that particular emotion in his gaze? She made a slight sound of protest in the back of her throat as he slipped away from her, one which quickly morphed into a breathy sigh as his lips mapped a path over her collarbone and lower to the valley between her breasts.

She could feel his need, his earnest desire to please her, but she couldn't understand why he was holding back, why there was still that part of him she felt she'd never reach. Carol was afraid to question him, to disrupt his focus, scared to death if she did, he'd come to his senses and leave her. "Daryl …" a fervent plea on her lips as her fingers trailed over the side of his neck.

Daryl's gaze lifted to hers, dark and hooded, and though he remained silent, she understood his quiet command … _Shh, I've got y' … trust me._ He pressed his brow to her hip bone, his left hand reaching for her right, twining their fingers. He waited for her to relax a bit, to let her fears ebb away before beginning again.

Carol's breath hitched as he settled between her thighs, his lips teasing her sensitive skin, nipping lightly to draw a slight bruise. A moan keened low in her throat at the thought of bearing his mark in such an intimate place, burning pleasure pooling low in her belly. He took his time, and it was torture, her core throbbing in anticipation, her back arching beneath her lover's questing lips.

She clamped her free hand over her mouth as the tip of Daryl's tongue traced her slit, and he bit back a smirk. He'd never been more grateful to hear his brother's well-meaning advice tripping through the back of his mind. A growl rumbled deep in his chest as he inhaled deeply, her scent enveloping him, heady and sweet. He spread her further, curling his right arm around her thigh to hold her steady, sparing himself one more furtive glance at her parted lips and heaving breasts before losing himself within her treasured heat.

Daryl couldn't help but grind his hips against the mattress as he tasted her with broad strokes of his tongue from her entrance to the quivering bundle of nerves begging for his attention. He could honestly admit he'd never been so turned on. Surely never with one of the women Merle had thrown his way, never for any woman but the one mewling his name and writhing beneath his unskilled tongue. _Damn, but she's fuckin' magnificent,_ he thought, sinuously circling the little nub as her hand delved into his hair and gave a sharp tug.

And if he didn't rein in his own desires quickly, he was going to embarrass himself. He released his confining grip and drew his hand around, bringing it into play with his mouth, two fingers dipping inside her hot core, playing her fluttering folds in contrast to the pressure on her clit until she was bucking her hips unconsciously, riding his face, seeking her pleasure.

Daryl bit down on his lip, needing the pain to ground him as her thighs clamped down around his head, trapping him in place as a gush of warm honey flowed over his tongue. He eased her legs down, and rose to his knees, bracing himself above her as he watched her climax gentle her features, pleasure spreading to her extremities. He wiped his mouth on the back of his forearm, and leaned over to kiss her gently, not expecting her to reach for him.

Carol's eyes were wild, unsure and perhaps a little fearful, and he reached out to give a gentle squeeze to her hip to reassure her. "Stay …" she breathed, her thumb brushing lightly over the rapidly beating pulse beneath his jaw. "Stay with me. Let me …"

"No." He shook his head. It wasn't about him, and he wouldn't give in to the temptation, not when he wasn't sure where her heart really lay. "Sleep."

"But –"

Daryl drew the sheet up to cover her. "Naw … rest. Y' still wanna talk or whatever, we'll do it tomorrow." He gave her one last searching look before he grabbed his shirt and walked out the door to return to his room.

Carol punched her pillow with such force, a feather puffed from the seam. _I will figure this out, Daryl, and when I do … there will be nowhere you'll be able to hide from me._

*.*.*

He felt like a complete asshole as he sat there on the hood of the truck where it was parked to the rear of the RV. Daryl had promised he'd talk to Carol … if she even wanted to after the way he'd left her the night before. Yet the moment dawn's first rays lit the sky with the faintest streaks of indigo, he'd hauled ass out of the gate, a borrowed compound bow and full quiver of arrows slung over his back. He'd be the first to admit he was a coward when it came to that woman. She held so much power over him, and she didn't even realize it. At least, he hoped she didn't.

Carol was the only person capable of shattering him … heart and soul. So, he'd run. It was bad enough he'd denied her last night and run back to his room for a night of fitful sleep, waking more exhausted than he'd been when he'd collapsed upon his bed. He feared what she had to say, scenarios of rejection and pain running through his mind one after the other. He'd been too worked up – near panic – to have the conversation he knew she'd want. The morning and most of the afternoon hadn't proved fruitless, however. He'd brought a stringer of squirrels, four large rabbits and a young boar back to Olivia for the pantry's freezers.

His brows furrowed, and his ears pricked, his eyes narrowing on Rick as he sent out teams of two to scout the area for a walker which would most resemble the Hilltop's leader, needing the head if their plan was to work. The sun was dipping lower in the sky, the seconds ticking past until they could put Rick's plan into action. Hours would still need to be filled with setting up a perimeter, a watch, and securing their weapons. A snort escaped him at the thought of finding a head to resemble the mealy-mouthed Gregory, but his attention was quickly averted.

It wasn't often he witnessed Maggie and Carol so at odds. If he were Glenn, he'd have made his wife remain at home safely behind the walls where no harm could come to their unborn child. Granted, Maggie was as stubborn as they came, but he would have made sure she stayed safe regardless of her wishes. Sexist or not, locking her in a closet would save her the heartache should something happen during the raid.

Daryl hopped down off the hood of the truck and approached them, his rifle slung over his shoulder. The women were too far away for him to overhear their heated murmurings, but their body language was clear as day. Maggie turned and stormed back in the direction of the vehicles before Daryl reached them, leaving him alone with Carol as she reached in her coat pocket for a pack of cigarettes.

He arched a brow as he drew close. "What th' hell, woman?! When'd y' start smokin'?" he asked, lighting one of his own.

Carol shrugged, blowing out a thin stream of rich smoke as she eyed him shrewdly. "Oh, now you're talking to me? Don't bother," she sighed, taking a step to move past him.

Daryl's hand snaked out lightning quick to loosely grasp her wrist. She wasn't going to run away from him when she was clearly upset. He knew he was being hypocritical, but he had no fucks left to give. "What's got y' so upset?" he asked, pulling her a bit closer so their voices wouldn't carry far. He tried to be gentle, biting back the retort which immediately perched on the tip of his tongue at her sharp tone. She had every right to her anger. "You an' Maggie have words or somethin'?"

Carol's eyes flickered past him, settling briefly on the woman where she stood next to the truck filling magazines for their rifles and handguns. "She shouldn't be out here, Daryl. What if something happens to her … the baby …" Her lower lip trembled as she raised the cigarette to her mouth once more to take a drag. "What the hell is she thinking?!" she hissed.

"Mule-headed is what she is, an' y' know Glenn's not capable of tellin' her no when she's got her mind set on somethin'. I –"

"I'm staying with her … during the raid. She can't watch the perimeter alone."

"Th' fuck y' are!"

"Stop it," she fairly growled, her hackles rising at his tone. "You aren't going to stand there and tell me what to do, Dixon."

"Y' know I ain't tryin' to either. Goddamnit," he snarled, his face inches from hers. "What if there's stragglers … or walkers? Jesus, Tara, Gabriel an' that Andy guy … they're gonna be out here. S'not like she's gonna be alone." He tossed his cigarette aside and ran a hand roughly through his hair. "You're supposed t' be with me!"

A/n: Well … our favorite archer is NOT a happy camper, is he? Next up … our darling OTP has a heart to heart. We're heading into 'The Same Boat' episode, but we're not going to see canon. We're going to enjoy Daryl's POV this time. Thank you so much to my wonderful beta team BettyBubble (who broke down this chapter with my utmost gratitude and love) and Geektaire! Buckets of love, ladies! And thankies to all who reviewed. I do so love to hear what you think. Until next time xoxox!


	4. One Step Forward

Chapter Four: One Step Forward

"Well, I've already talked it over with Rick, and he agreed to let me stay with Maggie." She shook her head as he paced lithely back and forth before her like a caged panther. "Don't worry, you're not alone. Rick and Michonne will have your back."

"Ain't worried about that." Daryl swung his narrow-eyed gaze back to her, leaving himself open for her to see past his mask of irritation, letting her see his very real concern for her safety, the need to keep her safe, and yes … how much he cared about her.

He watched her press her lips together and steel her shoulders, a sure sign all wasn't right with her. He focused on her tells instead of her light touch as she reached out to caress his bare arm. "It's going to be ok, right? Or as ok as it's going to get with what we're here to do."

"What is it?"

"I don't know what you mean," she evaded, moving to step past him to return to the RV.

Again, he stopped her, tugging on her hand still held captive in his grasp. "It ain't jus' Maggie you're worried about –"

"Of course, not! I'm scared for all of us," she insisted, ignoring the sting of tears behind her lids. "I don't want to lose _anyone,_ Daryl. I don't want this fight, I don't want to kill the living, and I don't want you to die!"

Daryl stared at her uneasily, noting she was becoming even more agitated than before. If she didn't calm down, she was going to go out there and get herself killed. "Where's this comin' from? This ain't like you."

Carol dropped her forgotten cigarette to the ground, stubbing it out with the toe of her boot and watching the little ember die rather than meet his gaze. "How do you know what I'm like anymore?" she sighed. "Just … just let me go. I need to check –"

"No," he grunted, pulling her off towards the tree line. She followed grudgingly seeing as she had little choice, his calloused fingers still circling her wrist. His hawk-like gaze swept the area for danger before he turned to face her. "Not 'til y' tell me what th' hell's up with y'."

Her eyes flashed hotly. "You think because I let you touch me, I owe you some kind of explanation?"

"Is that what's got y' head so fucked up?" he growled, now angry with himself for putting more stress on her. If something happened to her during the raid, he'd never forgive himself. "I never … I wouldn't … Fuck, are we really doin' this _now?_ We cain't be goin' in there focusin' on us when we need to concentrate on keepin' our asses alive, Carol."

Her lips curled up into a bitter smile. "Is there an us? Because I don't know what the hell is going on with you lately, Daryl. One minute you're running hot, giving more of yourself than I ever dared to dream you would … and the next you're cold and angry." Carol reached out when she felt his grip loosen, refusing to let him run, not again. "Why?! Please, just tell me what you want. I can't do this anymore, Daryl. You can't just make me _feel_ and then turn it off. It doesn't work that way."

"Yeah, well I don't know how it's s'posed t' work," he grumbled irritably. "I'm tryin', but …" The dam within him broke, everything he wanted … _no, needed_ … to say spilling forth in a torrent. "It's always been us, Carol. Ain't never had any friends … 'til you. All I had was m' brother, but I don't know if I would've called him friend. Just you … pullin' me back from th' edge, makin' me a part of th' group, tellin' me I was good, that I had honor. You're th' reason I try so hard, why I ain't gave up a long time ago. I don't know when I started wantin' more."

He kept his gaze averted, studying the mud on his boots as the words continued to spew forth, so much easier to articulate if he didn't have to meet her eyes. Pity, rejection … no, he couldn't bear to see it in those azure depths which haunted his dreams. And then he felt her hand tentatively cup his cheek, drawing him back. "Daryl …"

"I thought I lost y'," he said, cursing inwardly as his voice broke. "I saw y' kissin' that asshole, an' I thought I'd lost y'. I was an idiot. I always thought you'd be there for when I was ready, for when things finally settled and I … I could try t' be what y' needed."

"Daryl …"

He swallowed thickly. "I was so mad. Gawd, I wanted t' beat his ass for puttin' his hands on y'. I left, spent hours in the woods tryin' to get past it, but I couldn't." His breath came in labored pants, despite the gentle touch as she caressed his cheek. "Then I heard y' … thought y' was havin' a nightmare."

Carol's hand dropped to toy with the collar of his shirt, her eyes wide with horror. "Oh, god … you heard me?!"

Daryl nodded. "No matter how mad I was, I couldn't let y' suffer. I was gonna wake y' up, make sure y' were ok." He wanted so badly to pull her closer, his mind filled with the memory, but he couldn't … not until she knew everything. "Never expected y' t' let me touch y'. I was gonna tell y' th' next mornin'. I'd made up my mind to lay it out there for y' an' see if maybe y' felt th' same, but –"

"Tobin showed up with Abe," Carol finished for him.

"Yeah, I –" his voice stuttered to a halt as he moved away from her, stalking further towards the heart of the forest as two walkers emerged. He made quick work of them, circling the perimeter of the clearing to make sure there were no others before he returned to her.

He certainly wasn't expecting her to take two fistfuls of his vest and slam him back against an elm. Carol's soft lips settled on his with gentle pressure, nipping slightly until he opened for her. Daryl's eyes narrowed to slits, searching for any movement along his periphery as he savored the taste of her rosebud mouth, his hands coming to settle on the curve of her hips, dragging her closer and giving his all until she'd had her fill.

Her eyes were dark and heavily-lidded when she pulled back and sucked in a much-needed lungful of air. "Daryl, I don't want Tobin … I never did. I've been numb for so long trying to stave off the guilt I've carried around, I just wanted to feel _something._ I gave up hope you'd ever feel more than friendship for me. I accepted it, and tried to move on, but my heart wasn't in it, and it let me know rather quickly it didn't want anyone but you."

"But I saw –"

"You saw me kiss him, but apparently, you didn't wait around to see me push him away," she reiterated. "There was no spark, no fire … not like it is when I'm with you." The tiniest of smiles lifted the corner of her lips. "Perhaps we should thank him for making you jealous enough to come to me that night." Carol smoothed out the creases she'd made in his vest, her face falling. "Or am I wrong to think you want me?"

"For fuck's sake, woman … 'course I want y'."

"Then why won't you let me touch you when we're in bed together? Why wouldn't you stay with me last night?" she asked, voicing her concerns as a little furrow appeared behind her brows.

Daryl realized beneath the confident woman she portrayed to their family, she had the same insecurities which plagued him. "I didn't want y' t' regret nothin'. I wanted t' make sure y' really wanted me, give y' time t' think about it. You're it for me, Carol … always have been," he whispered softly, holding nothing back. "S'why I want y' t' be sure."

A spark of hope entered her glistening eyes. "Are sure you this is what _you_ want? You're not just doing this because you're scared another man is going to try to steal me away from you?"

"I wanna try, Carol. I'll be th' first t' tell y' I suck at relationships, an' I'll prob'ly fuck it all t' hell an' back within the first week, but … I wanna spend whatever time we got left on his hellhole of a planet with you."

Her hands slid up his chest to rest on either side of his neck, her thumbs caressing his jaw. " _If_ we survive tonight, that is."

Daryl drew her in, flush with his body, his brow resting against hers as relief washed over him. "We're gonna be fine … trust me."

Carol breathed in his musky scent, that perfect blend of sandalwood, pine, leather and sweat, and tried to have faith in his steadfast promise. She would protect Maggie, do her job, and pray for Daryl's safety … her family's safety. Killing the living would continue to weigh heavily on her soul, but she had Daryl to help her carry the burden. She couldn't allow her fears to get in the way, not when they didn't know if they'd even have tomorrow. They would be alright … she just had to believe it.

*.*.*

It was supposed to be over. The raid had been successful, which should please the leader of the Hilltop enough to keep his end of their bargain. Heath and Tara left for their two-week run, planning to venture farther than anyone had gone thus far in an attempt to bring in much needed supplies, as the rest of them did a final sweep. They'd been ready to pack it in when Daryl had frozen in place, the sound of his stolen motorcycle reaching his ears.

He'd been all for killing the bastard, restraining himself because he wanted answers first. But none of that mattered once he'd heard the voice filtering through the walkie Rick confiscated from the surviving savior amidst the crackle of static.

 _"We've got a Carol and a Maggie … I'm thinking that's something you want to chat about."_

Daryl had stared at the tree line where their unseen foes were likely hidden, fury unlike any he'd ever felt before coursing through his veins. He was angry with himself for leaving her behind with Maggie, wishing he'd tried to talk her out of it, despite knowing it was the right thing to do. He was numb with fear for her, going through the motions of following Rick's plan. He hadn't even protested when his brother had sent Aaron back to Alexandria on Daryl's recovered bike to warn those who'd been left behind and prepare for an inevitable retaliation.

Daryl had quickly made himself focus after Rick's assurances to the remaining group that they'd get Carol and Maggie back safely. _How, when y' don't even know where th' fuck they are?_ he'd fumed silently. Brother or not, Rick didn't have the best luck when it came to his _family_ members. Merle and Sophia instantly came to mind and he had to force the memories away before he lost what little control he had over his temper.

Glenn drove the truck behind the RV, needing to somehow feel he was doing something useful to save his wife, and Rosita, Sasha, Gabriel and Jesus – who'd volunteered to go along on the rescue mission – rode with him. Which left Rick, Michonne, Daryl, Abe and Sasha the RV.

Daryl snapped out of his reverie and kicked the savior once more in his ribs where the man was sprawled on the floor between the two sofas. "I ain't askin' y' again … where'd they take our women?"

The bald man grinned, the gesture macabre as his teeth were coated with his own blood from the previous beating at Daryl's hands. "You can beat me all you want, you redneck bastard … still ain't tellin' you shit!"

Abraham shook his head and leaned back against the seat. "Were you born that stupid or did you take a class?" he asked, raising one ginger brow. "Haven't you ever heard of self-preservation?"

"Abraham," Sasha admonished, biting back a smile.

Daryl hit the savior again – who still wouldn't give up his name – feeling his knuckles tear open. "Tell me where they are an' I might even let y' live."

Primo snorted. "Yeah, right. The second I give up their location, you'll put a bullet in my brain." His busted lip didn't hinder him from grinning maliciously. "Too bad they're with Paula, too. She's a cold, vicious bitch. Your women … they're probably already dead."

Daryl felt his gut roil with a fresh onslaught of rage, panic and fear, all of which he kept hidden behind a mask of steel determination. He pulled the Beretta from the waistband of his pants and shoved the muzzle into the asshole's mouth. "Then I guess there ain't no need t' keep your ass alive, now is there?"

"Daryl!" Rick called from behind the wheel. "He can't exactly talk if he's choking on your gun."

"Naw … he knows where they are, Rick. If he ain't gonna tell us …" he left his statement hanging as he pressed harder. "Doubt th' fucker's ever had anyone he'd kill for … much less die for."

"Back off, Dixon," Sasha said softly. "He's not going to tell us anything without the right _incentive_. Apparently, he's more afraid of this Paula person than he is of you."

"Not saying you're not scary as shit in your own right," Abraham added.

"Just let me try for a bit. You could use a breather to clean that hand up."

Daryl removed the gun from the savior's mouth, pleased to see the ravaged mess of his lips, and tucked it in the back of his waistband.

Primo laughed. "Gonna let a woman do what you can't, redneck?"

Abraham launched himself from the sofa, jerking Daryl back before he could begin again. This time, he didn't think the man would survive Dixon's wrath. "He's all yours, darlin'," he said, thrusting a first aid kit at Daryl.

Sasha's dark eyes glowed with a malevolent light as she took in the bound man bleeding on the floor. "You really are stupid, aren't you?" she mused aloud, slipping her field knife from the sheath on her belt and running a thumb over the blade to test its sharpness almost idly. "Daryl was going easy on you, but that's ok … gives me a chance to play."

Abraham and Daryl both seemed to freeze where they stood behind her, twin expressions of stunned disbelief awash on their features.

The ginger shook his head as if to clear it as Sasha turned to glance at him over her shoulder. "Abraham, would you please check that junk drawer next to the stove? Glenn's always throwing odds and ends in there, and I could use a few strong rubber bands."

Michonne turned in her seat, her brow creased with confusion as she looked at Sasha. "What could you possibly need with those?"

The group's deadliest sniper just smiled as she straddled the prisoner. He struggled against the zip-tie binding his hands, suddenly afraid of what this woman was capable of. Abraham looked as if he wasn't too thrilled with his girlfriend perched on the captive's lap, but he handed her the requested items without a word, curious to see what she was going to do. Daryl hissed from the opposite sofa as he poured alcohol over his busted knuckles, paying more attention to Sasha than to tending his wound.

"I ain't telling you nothing either, lady. Don't matter a bit to me what you got in your bag of tricks. I was Special Forces … I know torture," he belted out with mocking bravado.

Sasha was sure he was lying, but she didn't call him on it, reaching for his belt and easily freeing him of it. The man's eyes widened when she popped his fly open and lowered the zipper. "Well, damn … this shouldn't take long at all. There's really not that much to work with," she chuckled.

"The hell you doing?!"

She reached out to take his flaccid penis in hand, her lip curled with distaste as she looped one of the rubber bands around the base of it, the other around his balls until he shrieked.

"What's going on back there?!" Rick called from the driver's seat, alarmed as he caught sight of the horror written all over Michonne's face. "Do I need to pull over?"

"Naw … keep driving. Tracks pointed this way, so we can only hope they didn't turn off nowhere. Ain't got time t' stop if we're gonna find Carol an' Maggie," Daryl told him, unable to take his eyes off Sasha. It was like a train wreck … it was horrible, but he couldn't seem to look away.

Sasha rolled her eyes as she looked down at the prisoner. "Oh, stop your bellyaching. I haven't even gotten started good."

Primo began to sweat as she inched a little closer with the knife, keening in terror as the blade skimmed along his dick. "Wh-What are you gonna do to me?"

Abraham snorted. "I'd think that was obvious, asshole. She's gonna geld you. And she's got a good tourniquet, so we don't have to worry about you bleeding out before you really start to _feel_ it."

Daryl cringed as Sasha pressed the tip of the blade to the bulging vein standing out so prominently. _Gawd, PLEASE don't ever let me get on that woman's bad side!_ He glanced over at Abraham who was avidly watching his woman with slightly larger pupils and ruddy cheeks. Leave it to him to get turned on while witnessing just how badass she could be.

Rick swerved as their prisoner let out an ear-piercing scream, whether it be from pain or terror, Daryl couldn't be sure. His shrieks intensified as Sasha pressed just hard enough to draw a thin rivulet of blood, raising the blade so Primo could see just how serious she was.

"Stop! Stop … please … I'll tell you whatever the fuck you want, just don't cut off my dick!" he wailed. "I don't wanna die!"

"Should've thought about that when you had the chance, asshole," Abraham snarked, reaching over to smack the man upside his head.

"Careful," Sasha warned. "We wouldn't want the knife to slip prematurely."

"NO! Please … Paula would've taken them to the break point. The slaughterhouse on Cattermill Road … I swear!" He screamed again as Sasha lowered the blade, tears streaming down his face. Terror was replaced with numbing relief as she cut through the rubber bands and zipped him back into his pants.

"Now, see … that wasn't so hard, was it?" She glanced down at his groin with a pitying smirk. "Literally."

"You people are crazy!" he mumbled weakly.

"You don't know shit from shinola," Abraham chortled, "but you're right about that."

A/n: So, they've finally taken that first step, and now the shit hath hitteth the proverbial fan. And I have to say … I just adore Sasha. I loved making her even more badass in this one. Can you tell I miss her? Next time, Daryl reunites with Carol. Buckets of love to all who reviewed and a great big shoutout to my wonderful betas BettyBubble and Geektaire!


	5. The Silence Is Her Muted Cry

Chapter Five: The Silence Is Her Muted Cry

Rick literally had to hold Daryl back once they reached the outskirts of the property where the slaughterhouse was spread out with its many buildings, his hand fisted in his brother's vest. They'd parked about a half mile away - not wanting to alert the saviors holding Carol and Maggie and give them an excuse to kill them outright – and trekked in silently, hidden behind first the tree line and then several outbuildings to get a lay of the land.

Daryl and Glenn – fearing for the women they loved – were gung-ho ready to storm the place, guns blazing, but Rick and Abraham had convinced them it was likely to get more of them killed. Rick understood the bloodlust, had felt it himself on more than one occasion since the world had ended. He still had nightmares of what he'd done to those men who'd tried to assault his son the night Daryl had come back to them.

"Goddamnit, Rick … lemme go!" the hunter snarled over his shoulder, twisting away as he tried to get Rick's fingers to loosen in the back of his vest. "We're here, ain't nobody spotted us … now lemme go in there an' get her!"

Glenn pushed his way between them and faced Rick, his dark eyes flashing with barely concealed anger and frustration. "He's right … we need to get in there before it's too late. They no doubt know we're coming, anyway."

Abraham slapped their smirking prisoner in the back of his head and growled, "Where're they going to be, asshole? Can we take them at their word by what we heard over the walkie? And don't even _think_ about lying to me or I'll let Sasha have another go at you. Only this time, I don't think she'll be quite so nice."

Primo paled, wishing he hadn't been so cooperative when he'd given them the secure channel he knew Paula would be using to communicate with the others. "She said the Kill Floor … she'll be there, man."

Michonne, Tara, Jesus and the others set up a perimeter as the savior led Rick, Glenn, Daryl and his group forward. Glenn and Daryl took point, the two of them having more to lose than the rest of the group, and once Rick nodded grudgingly, there was no stopping them.

"S'that smoke?" the archer asked, watching worry fill his friend's eyes. The younger man was ruled by emotion, and it took no prodding to get him moving a little faster towards the building.

They weren't expecting the heavy metal door to open just as they reached it, and Daryl could see Glenn's shoulders droop as relief flooded him to see Maggie on the other side, pointing her handgun in his face. But Daryl didn't wait to watch their reunion, rushing forward to check on Carol. Her eyes were dull, hollow, and his heart ached for what she must've suffered.

"Hey," he said calmly, tamping down the panic which had been welling behind his breastbone from the moment he'd heard the savior's voice on the walkie, smug and confident she had captured someone important to them. He grasped for something to say as his gaze swept her from top to toe, checking for bites or other injuries. "Y' start that fire?"

Carol nodded slowly, the events of the past twenty-four hours leaving her numb now she knew she was safe again with Daryl.

He reached for her, tilting her chin up, but she couldn't bring herself to look at him, shying away from his scrutinizing gaze. "Y' a'right?" he asked softly, and she just couldn't bring herself to lie to him.

"No …" Hardly a whisper passed her lips, but he heard it, as attuned to her as he was.

"C'mere." His arms enveloped her, crushing her to his chest, offering her the comfort and support Carol so desperately needed.

Daryl was so focused on Carol, he nearly missed what Maggie was telling her husband about the people who'd abducted them and how she and Carol had taken them out. Was that why Carol now trembled in his arms, nearly lifeless with the weight of her actions? What had they done to her? He leaned back minutely, ducking his head to meet her gaze, but still, she refused to meet his eyes. Though it might not have been evident to the others, he didn't miss the small hitches in her breath or the slight tremor in her limbs. She couldn't hide from _him_.

Their attention was drawn to Rick as he confronted the savior who'd led them back to Carol and Maggie, and Daryl backed away from her. Though not so much he couldn't reach out to touch her if needs be.

"Your friends are dead … no one's coming for you," Rick taunted the man who seemed shaken to his core. Primo didn't know them, didn't know of everything in which they were capable. If he had, he would have run when he'd had the chance. "So, you might as well talk."

"Let him burn," Daryl growled, advancing a step with quiet menace, his rage firmly in check. He didn't know what Carol had been through - the fuckers could have served them tea and crumpets for all the fucks he didn't have to give – it was enough they'd dare put the women – _his woman_ \- in danger, and there would be no sparing the man.

"I'm gonna ask you one last time," Rick fairly snarled through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched so tightly the muscle in his jaw ticked a menacing tempo. "Who else might've escaped the outpost? How many of there were you … where did you get the bike?"

Daryl clenched his fists, wanting another go at the man. He was tired of the questions Rick had tossed rapid fire at the savior on the trek from the RV to the slaughterhouse. They all deserved to fucking burn. No laws, no courts, no police, and yet this group took it upon themselves to prey on the weak. He wasn't going to let this turn into another debacle like the prison, wasn't going to lose his family, his home … not again.

Primo seemed to lose some of his previous bravado, seeing firsthand what had happened to his friends. "We found it."

"Like hell y' did," Daryl hissed.

"We found it," the savior repeated numbly.

Rick huffed an exasperated breath. "Was Negan in that building last night or was he here?"

Feeling the icy hand of fate gripping tightly around his throat, the savior met Rick's stare head on. "Both. I'm Negan, shithead." Rick took a step back, his eyes narrowing, but it didn't stop Primo from trying to talk his way out of what he knew would come next. "There's a whole world of fun we can talk about, so let's have a chat."

Daryl knew it was inevitable even before his brother's hand closed over the butt of the colt. "I'm sorry it had to come to this," Rick mockingly apologized, his finger curling around the trigger without hesitation. The gunshot reverberated throughout the limited space of the kill floor, making his ears ring.

But it didn't stop him from hearing Maggie utter a weak sob as she buried her face against her husband's shoulder, nor did he miss the barely audible gasp which escaped Carol's parted lips. He turned to her, hand settling on her forearm to steady her, but she simply stared off into the empty space where the savior had stood, her usual bright gaze dull, as if the light had gone out of her soul.

"Carol?" he asked softly, reaching for her other hand. It was then he noticed the blood dripping through her fisted fingers. "Carol! Hey … talk t' me, woman."

Rick hurried to his side in long strides and tilted her chin up. "Rosita!"

Maggie shook her head. "She wasn't injured, Rick. There's no reason for –"

Rosita took in Carol's rigid posture and blank stare and shot a quick glance at Daryl before she gently lifted Carol's hand and began to pry her fingers loose. "I can bandage her hand, but I can't explain why she's otherwise unresponsive. Maybe … I dunno, maybe what happened today was just too much for her?"

Daryl took the rosary which had dug savagely into the palm of Carol's hand and slipped it into one of the wide pockets of her jacket as Rosita reached into her pack for a small first aid kit. "We need t' get her t' Denise. She was some kinda therapist before all this, right? She'll be able to help Carol," he murmured frantically, his eyes seeking Rick's for reassurance.

Carol was always there to lend her quiet strength, but now it was she who needed _their_ help and Daryl was at a complete loss as to what to do.

"Yeah, she was," Rick agreed, clapping a hand to Daryl's shoulder, grounding him. Now was not the time for one of his turbid bouts of temper. "Denise will be able to help her."

"I fuckin' _knew_ she shouldn't've come on this raid," the archer raged, fire flashing in his eyes. "Her mind's broke an' all o' this coulda been for _nothing!"_

"Brother, we talked about this. We all agreed –"

"Don't mean it was right!"

Daryl lifted Carol gently in his arms, tucking her securely against his chest and began the mile trek back to the RV, leaving his gaping friends to stay or follow. He didn't much care at the moment. Helping Carol was all that mattered.

*.*.*

Daryl paced like a caged panther, his lithe predator's stride never veering far from Carol's side where she sat on the makeshift examination table in the infirmary. He raked a tremulous hand through his hair in frustration as Denise made little humming sounds and wrote a few notes on Carol's chart.

The ride back from the slaughterhouse had at least been relatively silent. Daryl had given the others no choice but to leave him alone with Carol, locking them in the rear of the RV. He hadn't wanted their family gawking at Carol with their pitying glances. He knew if it was him, he wouldn't want them all gathered around him in such a vulnerable position no matter how much he knew they cared.

Carol had remained listless, staring with her unseeing gaze at a spot on the wall throughout the journey, safely nestled on his lap, her head tucked beneath his chin. She would take direction, moving if urged, but she wouldn't speak or even acknowledge anyone. To be honest, Daryl was terrified. Everything he'd seen and done over the past two years … well, there was little in the new world which scared him. But seeing the woman he loved locked within her own mind brought about a level of fear he had no clue how to navigate.

"What's wrong with her?" he asked, unable to stand the silence a second longer.

"Physically, apart from the cut on her hand, she's healthy and whole," Denise assured him, pulling her stethoscope from around her neck and setting it on the small table next to the bed. "However, she seems to have suffered either a mental break or she's locked into a severe panic attack."

"She's catatonic, Denise. This has to be more than mere anxiety," Rick argued where he lounged against the doorjamb.

"There ain't nothin' _mere_ about this!"

Daryl eyed him with a steely glare, still angry Rick had forced Carol – and the rest of their family – to participate in the raid. He should have listened to his gut, taken Carol away on a longer hunt, one which would have lasted several weeks. Tara and Heath were on their way to parts unknown on the same mission. If he'd trusted his instincts, she wouldn't be sitting in the infirmary in a catatonic state.

"It's more than possible," Denise said in exasperation. "Anxiety affects people in different ways. Maggie said Carol had already had one attack while they were being held prisoner. We don't know what else was done to her when she and Carol were separated. It could have been too much for her mind to handle, so it shut down to protect her."

Daryl moved away from the bed, trying to give Denise a bit more room, and Carol's breath hitched. The doctor raised her brows in surprise. "Well, that's interesting."

"What?" Rick asked, venturing closer.

Denise removed her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose, inwardly cursing having spoken her thoughts aloud. Wanting to test her theory, she beckoned Daryl to move closer to Carol, her eyes widening when the woman instantly settled. Testing it further, she asked him to move away again.

"The hell y' doin'? How's this dancin' back and forth helpin' anythin'?" he growled.

"Don't you see? She becomes physically agitated when you move away and calms when you move closer," Denise rattled on excitedly. "We haven't lost her completely to her own mind. I really think she just needs time to come to terms with what happened, but she's going to need _you_ to help her."

"Me?"

Rick chuckled, earning him a glare from both his brother and the doctor. "Daryl's not really known for his bedside manner."

"Regardless," Denise chided, losing her patience. "Daryl is closest to Carol; she trusts him."

The hunter blushed to the roots of his dark hair. "I'll take care o' her."

The doctor brightened. "Good. Take her home," she said, her nose wrinkling at the state Carol was presently in, "get her cleaned up and see that she rests. And, Daryl … talk to her. She needs to hear your voice. If anyone can get through to her, I think it will be you."

Both men looked at her as if she'd grown a third ear, but she wasn't in the mood to explain herself. She'd studied to be a therapist and could read body language better than most. She could see the relationship between the hunter and the housewife was more than even they seemed to want to acknowledge, and she was confident Daryl was the only one who could help Carol through this trauma.

"Wait … she can _hear_ us?" Daryl questioned, positioning himself between the doctor and Carol, his hackles rising as he thought of all she'd said so callously clinical if she knew his woman could hear her.

"Well, yeah or at least I think so. It's just like with coma patients –"

He leaned in closer to her, his posture threatening as he loomed over her shorter stature. "Y' been goin' on an' on about her condition, an' y' knew she could hear us? What th' hell kinda doctor are y'?"

"What else was I supposed to do?" Denise squeaked defensively. "When you brought her in and told me to 'fix her'," she reminded him, making air quotes with her hands, "you barely let me near her. Was I supposed to ask you to step outside to offer my diagnosis, so I wouldn't be talking about her instead of to her? I was scared to give it to you regardless, seeing as how you could snap me like a twig if I told you something you didn't want to hear!"

Before Daryl could snarl out a response, Rick stepped between them. "What else can we do for her?"

Denise backed further away from the angry archer and focused on Alexandria's leader. "Her motor functions are good. Just guide her through her normal routine, talk to her, show her you care … all of you. You're her family," she advised. "Come see me if she doesn't get any better in the next day or so."

Daryl nodded and moved closer to the bed, gently resting his hands atop Carol's shoulder. She didn't acknowledge him with so much as a blink, but her breathing calmed and evened out. "Hey … Gonna take y' home now, ok? S'jus' me," he crooned softly in his deep graveled voice as he tucked one arm behind her back and the other beneath her knees to lift her into his secure embrace.

"Daryl, she _can_ walk," Denise assured him.

"Yeah, well I ain't paradin' her down th' street so everybody can gawk at her."

*.*.*

The main street which ran through the town just outside the infirmary was deserted as Daryl stepped out, careful not to jostle the precious burden in his arms. It made him wonder who he'd have to later thank for sending the word out to clear a path. Glenn would be at home with Maggie, tending her needs much as he planned to do for Carol. Abe and Sasha were already up on the wall for their shift on guard duty while Rosita manned the gate. Carl was no doubt tending to Judith, and Eugene was … well, he didn't want to think of what that odd duck was doing with his time. The rest of them should be working hard at the pantry, going through what they'd earned from the job they'd completed for the Hilltop community.

Michonne …

Yeah, Daryl could see their friend doing such a favor for them. He'd grown close to her on their hunt for the governor, and she'd struck up a friendship with Carol on their trek after Atlanta as they'd wandered the road once more, looking for a home. She would know how important their privacy would mean in a situation such as this, and her position of constable – at least to the citizens of Alexandria – held enough weight to see her wishes met.

Growling low under his breath as he neared the home he shared with Carol and Rick's family, he ducked between houses and skirted along the hedges towards the back door. He should have known some of the townsfolk wouldn't be so easily swayed with the task of inventorying food. That fucking lumberjack towered over Michonne on their front porch, _demanding_ to know what had happened to Carol and where she was.

Now was not the time to have to deal with the likes of him. There would be time to address that issue after Carol was back to her former self. _If she ever breaks free of whatever hell her mind has whipped up to torment her,_ he thought morosely. Everyone he'd ever loved had been stripped away from him. Daryl couldn't bear to lose her now they had a second – or was it a third – chance to start over.

"Hang on, baby … almost there," he whispered, pressing his lips to her brow as he mounted the steps to the back porch. He wasn't expecting the door to fly open and find himself pulled inside by an overexcited Carl. His lips parted in surprise as the boy stuck his head back outside, looked around and then slammed the door, drawing the blinds for good measure before securing the lock. "What th' hell?"

"Sorry, but when everyone heard Carol had been hurt, they started showing up in droves … despite Michonne threatening to get her katana if they didn't disperse."

"Why would they –"

Carl shot him a blank look. "Do you not know what all Carol does for this community? She likes to pretend she's invisible, but whenever something happens, Carol's the one they look to for answers. They don't go to Dad because … well, he's kind of intimidating. Carol listens," he explained, lifting her hand from where it rested on her lap and giving it a squeeze.

"I didn't think anyone –"

"Yeah," Carl lamented, "she's always there for us, making sure we're taken care of, but we forget Carol needs us to take care of her, too."

 **A/n: Great big shoutout to my betas: BettyBubble and Geektaire. I love you, ladies! And I am so in love with the new banner BettyBubble made for this story … I hope y'all like it too!**

 **Sorry their reunion wasn't quite what you thought it would be, but I promise it WILL get better. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing xoxo!**


	6. Open Words Close Open Wounds

Chapter Six - Open Words Close Open Wounds

 _"Carol needs us to take care of her, too."_ Carl looked up at the hunter. "Is there anything I can do?"

Daryl was moved by the boy's quiet observance. "Uhm … " he stammered, casting a look around the immaculate kitchen. "Maybe see if there's some o' those cubes Carol uses t' make broth … oh, an' some tea. Doc said she'd respond t' basic motor functions."

"On it. I'll bring it up when it's ready," Carl promised, already heading for the pantry.

Daryl left the youngest Grimes to his task and took the stairs two at a time, hoping when Michonne got rid of their visitors, she wouldn't bombard him with questions. He brought Carol straight to the bathroom at the end of the hall and locked the door behind them. It was priority to wash the stench and filth of walkers off her before he could concentrate on her comfort.

He set her atop the vanity, but his fingers curled inward towards his palms before he could begin on her buttons. Denise had already removed her jacket – not that the ratty military issue coat was worth keeping – but he was hesitant to strip her bare when she wasn't cognizant of her own faculties.

Daryl cradled her face in his rough hands and pressed a kiss to her brow before he met her unseeing gaze. "I know yer in there, woman. I know y' can hear me," his graveled voice whispered raspily as he fought with the emotion welling within him. "I'm jus' gonna help y' have a bath, ok? Nothin' t' it, right?"

He stepped back long enough to set the stopper and adjust the taps, but in that time, Carol's chest began to rise and fall with renewed panic. He hurried back to her, gently running his hands over her upper arms as he spoke in low soothing tones. "Hey … it's ok, I'm here … you're safe." He held her to his chest, one arm about her shoulders until her breathing calmed and some of the tension vacated her body.

A deep blush began on his throat and rapidly rushed to the tips of his ears as Daryl once again reached for her buttons. Her bare form was nothing new to him now, yet he still felt as if he was violating her sense of self by stripping her. To lessen the blow, he kept his eyes locked with hers as he made quick work of them. A low groan swept passed his lips when he looked down. Of course, his woman would have _all_ her layers.

Daryl quickly turned off the taps and then knelt at her feet to work on the buckles of her boots. It took him longer to divest her of the rest of her clothes, careful to touch the least amount of her skin as possible. He felt like a fuckin' pervert despite his innate need to care for her. He hoped if he ever became so incapacitated, Rick would think him dead and knife him in the back of the head. Yet, knowing Carol as he did, she'd no doubt throw herself over his body and protect him with her last breath. Gawd, what a coil.

He took a deep breath and exhaled it towards the ceiling when she was completely bare. "Ok … uhm … let's get y' in th' tub before th' water gets cold, yeah?" No response. Just as before, he eased his arms around her, lifting her bridal style to carry her the few steps to the tub where he set her down gently. Still no response.

Daryl knelt next to the tub and cupped his hands to gather water, tipping it in a gentle fall over her silver curls before reaching for the shampoo du jour. He tried to keep her stocked in her favorite scents, but it wasn't always easy. This one smelled of sweet cream and peony, and he knew she preferred it over all the others. He felt awkward working the lather through her hair, the silence deafening. It had never bothered him before … but then, Carol had been able to talk to him even if she hadn't chosen to do so.

He huffed a short laugh as a memory assailed him. "Hey, remember th' last time we was all wet together … gawd," he shook his shaggy head in disgust. "That didn't come out right." He blushed again and went about rinsing her hair before he continued. "It was rainin' … stormin' really, that day at th' prison. We were tryin' t' get th' wash off th' lines before they got wet again. I know y' remember. Y' tripped on that loose stone I'd been promisin' t' fix an' went sprawlin' in th' mud. Then when I laughed, y' tripped me up an' pulled me down with y'." He grabbed a cloth off the towel rack and dipped it in the water before carefully washing her face, clearing it of the dust and grime of the road.

"There we were, covered in mud an' Glenn comes out tellin' us if we wanted t' play in th' mud, he could get Rick to expand th' pig sty." He felt her breath hitch as he dragged the soapy cloth over her back, more tension seeming to release from her as he talked of their life in the first real home they'd shared together. Had he stumbled on to a way to coax her back from the deep recesses of her mind?

It was worth a shot, he convinced himself. Daryl dredged his mind, reaching for any memories he shared with her and making her relive them with him … hunting trips, runs, walks around the perimeter checking the fences, watch duty … anything and everything he could think of to make her remember the good times they'd shared early on in their friendship. Even then, he'd loved her. He'd just been too afraid to admit it. Well, he was done running, through with hiding, and he would use all weapons in his arsenal to get her back.

Daryl helped her out of the tub once Carol was clean and wrapped a towel around her before lifting her up in his arms and carrying her to her bedroom.

Michonne hovered next to the door, her dark eyes fraught with worry. She quickly moved aside as Daryl bore Carol's slight weight through the door and set her gently on the side of the bed. "Has there been any change?"

"Does she look any diff'rent t' you, 'Chonne," he snapped, instantly regretting taking out his fear and anxiety on his friend. He shot her a look filled with remorse. "I'm sorry, I –"

Michonne waved off his apology before going to the dresser and rummaging through it for Carol's pajamas. "She's going to be fine, Daryl. When have you ever known her not to be?" she asked, dropping the tank and shorts at the end of the bed. "She's been through a lot already, and I'm thinking this was just too much for her. Give her time, and she _will_ come back to us."

The hunter nodded, and his dark eyes flickered between his woman and Michonne. "She's always been strong … even when she didn't know it," he admitted proudly.

Michonne smiled and crouched beside him where he knelt at Carol's bare feet, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Why don't you let me help her into her pjs while you go grab a quick shower?"

"Cain't," he winced. "Carol needs me."

She shook her head at his stubbornness. "No one is going to think any less of you for leaving her alone for a few minutes to take a shower. Quite the contrary," she murmured the last beneath her breath.

"Naw, y' don't understand … Whatever's wrong with her gets worse if I'm not physically close t' her," he explained, raking a weary hand through his hair and coming back with what looked like a piece of desiccated bone stuck to his fingers. He scowled and tossed it in the waste bin next to the bed. Even if he only admitted it to himself, there was no way he was crawling into his woman's bed until he'd scrubbed the walker guts from his body.

"You know she would want you to. I've heard her tell you more than once how she was going to hose you down," she smirked. "Go on, Dixon. By the time you're done, I'll have her ready for bed. I might even be able to get her to drink the broth Carl made for her." Still he hesitated, but she wasn't ready to give up just yet. "Something warm in her stomach and a lot of rest will do her good. Yes, she needs you, but she wouldn't want you to neglect yourself just to see to her needs." She turned to face Carol, smiling sweetly. "Isn't that right, Carol?"

Daryl knew she was right and wasn't stupid enough to refute her claim. He just had to convince Carol he wasn't leaving her by choice. He took up her hands in his, thumbs tracing lightly over her knuckles as he leaned closer to her, his voice whisper-soft. "Carol … I'm uhm … I'm gonna go get a quick shower, ok? Y' not gonna be alone though. 'Chonne's gonna be here with y'."

Carol didn't move or speak, but her breath stuttered for a brief moment.

Of course, he didn't miss the subtle change. "Ten minutes, ok? "'Chonne's gonna help y' dress and then give y' some o' that broth y' like." He pressed his brow to hers, fighting back the fear which clawed at his gut. Parting from her was damn near killing him. "I'll be right back … promise."

Daryl's gaze found Michonne's, narrowing threateningly despite the lack of malice he truly felt. "If there's even th' slightest change –"

"I'll come get you," she assured him.

He rose to his feet, knees shaking with dread, breath held as he took a step away from Carol, but he needn't have worried. Michonne was already talking to her in low reassuring tones. Carol would know she wasn't alone; she'd know she was safe.

Daryl nearly sprinted from the room to take the fastest shower on record this side of the apocalypse.

*.*.*

His hair was still a dripping mess when he returned to Carol's bedroom, a towel slung around his neck to preserve the neckline of the t-shirt he'd thrown on after his shower. The cotton sleeping pants he'd put on clung to him in several spots because he'd been in too much of a hurry to properly dry himself. His mind had been too focused on his woman to care much about hygiene. What if she needed him and he was otherwise occupied? What if … He rushed in and knelt at her feet, taking her hands in his before burying his head on her lap.

Michonne reached out and tentatively rubbed his shoulder. "She's fine, Daryl," she soothed gently. "Carol drank all her broth and half a cup of tea."

Daryl heaved a sigh of relief and sat back on his heels, sending a stiff nod Michonne's way. "Hey, sweetheart," he murmured, staring up into Carol's azure eyes, hope shining in his own. "Feel better since y' ate? Y' get better an' I'll see about gettin' us some venison. I know how y' love a good roast. I won't even bitch about peelin' potatoes this time."

Tears smarted at Michonne's dark eyes as she watched the hunter interact with Carol. It didn't matter to him a bit if she couldn't respond, he treated her just as if he were awaiting an answer to his questions. She blinked rapidly and pasted a sympathetic smile on her lips. "How are you, Daryl? Should I send Carl up with your supper? You've got to be starving."

"I could eat, but … ain't leavin' her, 'Chonne," he stated adamantly. A herd couldn't drag him from Carol's side.

"I think there's some leftover vegetable soup, so I'll send it up when it's warmed." She left him alone with Carol, her heart heavy, only to meet up with Rick in the hallway.

Rick wrapped his arms around her as Michonne collapsed against his chest with a choked sob. "Hey … you ok? How's Carol?"

She just shook her head. "It's like she's trapped in her own mind, and I don't want to think of the horrors she might have stored in there since even before the turn. Daryl's not much better. I've never seen him like this, not even after Merle was killed."

He held her closer, dropping a kiss to her brow as he led her towards the stairs. "Carol's the strongest woman I know. She'll get through this just like she's gotten through everything we've already faced. But now she's got Daryl firmly in her corner. They've always been close, but I dunno … their relationship has changed."

"Obviously," she muttered dryly. "I thought for sure they'd finally admit their feelings after Terminus, but then Grady happened and months on the road and Daryl feeling guilty because he couldn't save Beth … I suppose it was already too much to deal with."

"Yeah, well, Carol hasn't been right since she saved all our asses. Something happened out there when we were separated … something to do with Ty and those girls." Rick watched her pull a container of leftovers from the refrigerator, leaning a hip against the center island. "Let's just hope they can work through their issues and find a little happiness. God knows they deserve it."

*.*.*

Daryl knelt at Carol's feet, one delicate foot poised on his lap as he rubbed lotion into her skin. He'd eaten what he could of the soup Carl had brought, even let the boy stay for a bit to read to her. He'd also had to endure a visit from Glenn and Maggie. She'd insisted upon checking on Carol despite her own need to rest and recover. The visit hadn't been a complete waste, however; not when she'd been more than willing to give Daryl a run-down on their time with the saviors.

The group had taken out the compound, but how could they be certain it was the end? There had been those who'd fired upon Daryl, Sasha and Abraham after diverting the herd, and more who had ambushed them on their way back to Alexandria after Daryl's altercation with those fools in the burned forest. His gut churned with dread, trusting his instincts when he'd told him it was far from over. Rick had dragged them into a war with these people, but how long would they be able to fly under the radar before a confrontation? He couldn't blame his brother for doing what he could to feed his people; he probably would have done the same, but what price would they have to pay in the long run?

Daryl tilted his head to the side as he watched Carol's eyes begin to droop with fatigue. "Tired, sweetheart?"

No response, though he hadn't really expected one. He resumed his work, moving on to her other foot. He meant for his actions to soothe her, to release just a bit more of the tension she harbored and put her one step closer to being free of her mind. This was a routine he'd watched her perform before bed more than once since they'd arrived in the safe zone, and before at the prison. He could still remember the absolute joy on her face the day he'd first presented her with the bottle of Aveeno body lotion he'd found after their first long winter on the road.

How was he to protect her from the unknown in her present condition? Just the thought of her defenseless made his chest ache with the beginning stirrings of panic. The longer she remained in the clutches of this panic attack or mental break or whatever the hell it was, the more defeated he felt. It had never set well with him to feel helpless.

Daryl took her hand, raising it to his lips to brush a kiss over her knuckles as he peered at her through his long fringe of bangs. Gently, he began to soothe more lotion onto her skin from wrist to fingertips. His voice was raspy and hoarse from his incessant need to talk to her. Everything he could remember of their time together, feelings he'd never shared with her, things he'd done when they'd been apart … it was all fair game. What he wouldn't give to see a spark in her eyes, even if it happened to be disapproval or rejection.

Done with his efforts to comfort her, he clasped her hands in his, holding them to his chest as he pressed his brow to hers, fighting back the stringent burn of tears behind his lids. "Please, baby … _please_ come back to me. I'm sorry I wasn't there t' stop this from happenin' t' y'. Y' can yell at me if y' want, jus' … please come back."

A shuddering breath rocked his entire frame. "Cain't do this without y', Carol. From th' beginnin', it's been us … y' an' me, on th' fringes. I didn't wanna be a part o' this group, didn't wanna get close. Ever'thin' I've ever cared about has been taken from me, an' I didn't wanna take a chance. But y' jus' wouldn't let me go. Y' saw somethin' in me I didn't even know was there, an' by that point, I couldn't've left y' if I tried. Merle didn't understand; neither did Rick." His head fell to her lap as he thought of her banishment. He'd been so careful to hide his feelings, and still she'd been taken from him. First, the woman he loved, then the only real home he'd ever had.

The tears Daryl had been fighting fell unchecked as his arms slipped around her waist, grounding him to her, afraid to let go. "Please, Carol. There ain't nothin' so bad y' cain't come back from it. Come back t' me."

Her hand twitched so lightly, he barely registered the touch, but the uncontrollable shaking of her body was more than enough to grab his attention and force him from the hell which threatened to suffocate him. Daryl's head shot up, his turbulent blue eyes wide and hopeful. His fingers shook as he reached up to brush away her silent tears, his breath hitching in his chest.

"That's it, sweetheart … let it go. Let it go an' come back t' me."

A/n: She's finally fighting her way back to him, bless her heart. Really hope y'all enjoyed the update. Please let me know what you think. Heaping thanks to BettyBubble for editing and breaking down this chapter for me. Don't know what I would do without you, luv!


	7. Still My Carol

Chapter Seven - Still My Carol

Carol felt as if she couldn't breathe, her breaths too rapid, not enough oxygen, and the onset of panic threatening to overwhelm her. Daryl's beloved face swam before her vision, barely visible through the tears coursing over her ashen cheeks … but she could _feel._ It was _real._ The sound of gunfire, that last echoing shot as Rick had put down the final savior … it still reverberated within her head with sickening clarity.

She forced a tiny whimper past her trembling lips, trying to speak and failing to form anything which might have resembled words. The darkness of her mind encroached, threatening to drag her back into the abyss. Carol could remember the gunshot and Daryl's horrified gaze as he'd checked her over, running with her through the forest and to the clearing where the RV had been hidden. She could remember his gentle hands as they'd tried to soothe her on the long drive back and their doctor's diagnosis of either a panic attack or a mental break. Daryl's tender ministrations when he'd given her a bath had nearly coaxed her from the dark places of her mind, but they weren't so forgiving, refusing to release her.

She was a slave to a living nightmare, her mind drawing her in to show her the torment of her past. Ed, that day at the lake when he'd hit her in front of the women, but it wasn't the Ed he'd been that day. If only … no, he'd been the chewed-up mess he'd been after the walker attack, his head a gory mess from where Carol had worked it over with the pickaxe, his clawed hands reaching for her. Just as she'd rid herself of them, Karen and David would appear before her, their charred bodies pointing accusing fingers at her. There were more nameless faces of the living she'd killed … at Terminus, during the wolves' attack, at the slaughterhouse, but the worst were the two little girls she'd failed to protect when she'd promised their father she would.

Every time she was certain she could fight her way back to Daryl, she would be drawn deeper, the ghosts of her past too strong to ignore.

Daryl squeezed her hands, trying to make her focus on his face and the hope blazing from his eyes. "C'mon, baby, y' can do this. Deep breaths … like me … in … an' out," he crooned in that steady tone, the very one he used when he rescued her from her nightmares. But she'd won, hadn't she? This time he was real and warm beneath her fingertips and the cloying darkness receded just a bit more.

Another flash of horror skirted across her inner eye and she recoiled, her hands digging into the hair at her temples as she shook her head violently.

"Carol!" he roared, his warm fingers circling her wrists. "Stop, woman, before y' hurt yourself."

Yet, he had no idea of her demons … blood and death and gore … the living and the dead … Karen … David … the scars which blackened her soul with the first lives she'd taken. An act of mercy or merely an excuse to make herself feel better? Lizzie … unable to protect one child, Carol had killed another. If she'd tried harder, perhaps she could have saved her, she castigated herself, barely registering as Daryl moved onto the bed and wrapped her in the comfort of his arms, his solid presence forcing her back to reality. Did she want to go?

A shudder wracked her body. If she pushed her way out of her mind, she knew she wouldn't be able to retreat. She'd have to acknowledge the dead who haunted her every waking moment and face what she'd done … for her family, for those she would sacrifice anything, everything, to protect.

Carol's fingers curled into Daryl's shirt, her face burrowing against his neck as the first full keening sob broke free of her. She didn't hold back, telling him everything in gasping whispers. Her heart ached, terrified of what he must think of her, but there was no turning back. He'd claimed he wanted them to try, and if she was going to have an honest, open relationship with him, she couldn't allow her sins to stand between them.

Calloused fingertips stroked a soothing path along her spine as the words continued to flow from her lips, his own whispers meant to be reassuring rather than placating as she spoke of those she'd killed at the prison and her resulting banishment. "They were dyin', Carol. Y' did them a kindness. Rick was wrong for leavin' y'. He waited 'til I was gone … pulled that shit when he _knew_ I couldn't go after y'." His lips feathered over her brow. "I woulda, y'know, if th' governor hadn't shown up at th' front gate with a tank."

The hardest part was confessing the tragedy at the grove, but even then, he somehow seemed to understand. Her fears he'd hate her were unfounded, just as she'd known but refused to heed the trust she harbored for him in her heart.

"There wasn't no helpin' that girl, sweetheart. Even if y' coulda found th' right meds and a damn good therapist, there's no guarantee y' coulda saved her. Y' couldn't let her hurt anyone else." He held her just a little tighter when he felt another shudder ripple through her. "Say y' brought her back t' th' group an' she succeeded in hurtin' Asskicker or Carl or Maggie … _me?_ Y' never woulda forgiven yourself."

"She w-was a child!"

"Who killed her sister, who didn't understand she couldn't play around with th' walkers, who woulda ultimately gotten herself killed no matter how hard y' tried t' protect her," he hissed stubbornly, trying to make her see.

Carol wept quietly against his collarbone, soaking the front of his shirt with her tears. She knew better than to argue with him, especially when he was convinced he was right. "I killed all those people at Terminus-"

"T' save us. Them or us." It was his turn to fight off a shudder as that day played in vivid technicolor across his mind's eye. "They was butcherin' people like cattle an' servin' them up like a Sunday barbeque." He tilted her chin up with a lone finger, so she could see the horror in his open gaze. "Had us lined up on our knees, woman, seconds from havin' our throats cut when y' caused that explosion. Y' did what you've always done … whatever's necessary t' protect your family."

Carol choked back a sob, realizing just how close she'd come to losing him. They'd all had their close calls in the time since the quarry, but Daryl had taught her how to bury it and not allow it to haunt her every waking step. The nightmares couldn't be helped, but by keeping it hidden in some of the dark recesses of her mind, it had helped her to cope and move on. She couldn't do it this time, however; not when it had been Daryl's life in mortal peril.

"I didn't think … just acted. I knew they had Carl and Michonne … _you_." She lifted her head from his shoulder and trailed her fingers along his scruffy cheek. "And then I saw y-you … I saw them drag you from that train car and I just … I couldn't l-leave you."

Daryl leaned into her touch, his lips brushing against her palm. "I know y' can take care o' yourself, but … sweetheart, there ain't nothin' I wouldn't do t' protect y'."

Carol's eyes closed, relishing the endearment and the press of his brow to hers, but she couldn't help but feel unworthy of his care. "I'm a m-murderer, Daryl," she murmured, averting her eyes to her fidgeting hands where they clenched at his t-shirt. "I'm a monster."

Daryl's strong hands gripped her upper arms firmly but gently, causing her eyes to snap up to his. "Don't y' give me that shit, woman! Y' ain't gone out there wantin' t' murder _anyone_. Everythin' y' done was necessary. Every single one o' us have had t' do shit we never woulda done before th' turn, an' it was all so we could survive." His fingers brushed at the tears on her ashen cheeks and his voice gentled. "See these tears? If y' was a monster, y' wouldn't be consumed by remorse."

"But –"

"Naw … there ain't no buts. Don't matter what mask y' put on or what role y' decide y' wanna play, but here," he whispered fervently as he rested his hand over her heart, "y' still _my_ Carol. Y' still the woman who showed me … showed me what it was like to have someone care about me. Y' made _me_ care." His voice broke at the last, tears of his own escaping the corners of his lids as his eyes slipped closed. "Don't y' know how much y' mean t' me?"

Her body shook with fresh sobs as he pulled her into his chest. "Daryl …"

"I shoulda told y' … gawd, so many times. At th' slaughterhouse, damnit, I thought I'd lost y', thought I'd lost my chance t' tell y' how much I love y'." He felt like an ass when Carol just cried all the harder. Her tears alone had the power to break him, but he was determined to keep it together and see her through this. "I ain't never loved someone who wasn't fam'ly, and I know y' deserve better than some uneducated redneck from –"

Carol smiled through her tears and brought her fingers up to cover his lips. "I love you too. You've been my strength, my hope, my _reason,_ Daryl … for so long. But I'm afraid of what's coming."

Daryl gnawed at the inside of his lower lip as she nestled back into his embrace, his mind trying to grasp her meaning. Was she afraid of him, the community's desperate need for supplies, or more groups like the one they'd exterminated the night before? "There ain't no need t' be scared, Carol. We're trying, right? Long as we're together, we'll get through whatever comes at us."

Her fingers twisted in the fabric of his t-shirt with amazing strength, her breath hitching again as she shook her head where it rested on his shoulder. "We don't _know_ how many from Negan's group are still out there, Daryl. That woman who took us – Paula – she was too cocky, confident she didn't have to worry about us because she had more coming to back her up." She shuddered. "I … I dealt with them, but were they the last? And what of that Dwight person you met in the burned forest?"

Daryl stiffened, a low rumbling growl sounding in his chest. "Fucker better hope I never run into him again."

"But didn't you say he and his wife were running back to Negan? They were too afraid of him catching up to them … so much so, they refused your offer to help them," she insisted.

He shrugged, despite the firm set of his jaw. "I can handle that asshole, Carol. They ain't gonna come knocking on th' gate, an' if they do, we'll be ready for 'em."

Carol's eyes flashed hotly as she pushed out of his embrace and rose unsteadily to her feet. "Don't patronize me, Dixon! I'm not gonna let you sit there and talk down to me because you think I might break at any second! I might have to put up with it from the others, but _not_ from you!"

Daryl shot to his feet, a firm rein on his temper as his hands came to settle on her hips to steady her. "Y' have any idea how ridiculous y' sound?" He ignored her burst of outrage, and ducked his head, catching her lips with his own and drawing her into his chest. "I ain't never been nothin' but honest with y', an' y' know it. I meant what I said, Carol … there ain't nothin' we cain't overcome if we're together. You an' me, jus' like we always have." He pressed another kiss to her temple and sighed. "Now y' wanna tell me what's really botherin' y'?"

She relaxed against him, her arms winding around his waist as his fingers carded through her hair. "Not really, but … it was my fault Maggie and I were captured. I hesitated, shooting to wound rather than to kill."

"Why didn't y' tell me? How long y' been strugglin' with this?" Daryl asked, leaning back just enough to meet her tortured gaze.

"A while … since the wolves' attack, maybe longer. Hell, I just don't know anymore," Carol confessed, shaking her head. "Having to kill the living … I think it's making me cold. I'm losing myself, Daryl, and I'm terrified of what I'll become. I have no choice but to kill to protect my family, but it's never enough, and we keep losing people. As long as we have a place like this … somewhere safe, with walls to keep out the walkers, and a decent level of protection, we're vulnerable. Someone is always going to want what's ours, and when they come to take it, I'm going to have to bury someone else I love. _I cannot bear the thought of losing you!_ Can't you understand that?"

Daryl gently brushed away her fresh onslaught of tears and pressed his brow to hers, lending his strength where hers failed, offering her comfort and another little piece of his heart when she needed it most. "Y' ain't th' only one havin' nightmares about losing people. I wake up in a cold sweat a lot of nights when I dream about havin' t' bury y', havin' t' face a future where y' ain't by my side. S'why I fight so hard t' protect this place … t' make sure you're safe." He gently rested his hands against the ivory column of her throat, his thumbs ghosting along her jaw. "Y' ain't gotta do nothin' y' don't feel y' can do, ain't gotta kill anymore. Lean on me, baby, please … whatever y' need."

Carol sighed, leaning into his touch as her heart swelled. "Don't let me turn cold," she pleaded, her voice a broken whisper. "I need you to help me find the person I'm meant to be now. I'm strong and capable, but my heart hurts, Daryl." She leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth, her lips ghosting over the mark he bore. "And I think I might need to talk to Denise."

He pulled her into his chest, his arms banding tightly around her, breathing out a sigh of relief to hear the logic in her words. "She was a therapist, Rick told me. Think she might be able t' help y'. It might do y' some good t' have someone t' talk t'."

"Trying, right?" Carol mumbled sleepily against his chest. Having unburdened herself, the weight of the world melted from her shoulders, leaving her drained.

"Mhmm … c'mon, let's get y' into bed so y' can rest." Daryl lifted her into his arms and bore her the few steps to the bed despite her protests, setting her gently in the middle.

Her eyes blew wide with panic as he stood up and anxiously looked towards the bedroom door, debating on whether he should stay or go. "You're going to stay with me, right? I mean … if you want."

His wide shoulders relaxed, and he didn't hesitate to join her under the duvet she'd pulled up to her waist. "All y' had t' do was ask," he murmured softly against her nape as he curled against her back.

Daryl thought she had finally succumbed to sleep several minutes later, but her whisper cut through the silence. "I'm still afraid."

He pulled her back more securely into his body and tightened his hold, curling protectively around her. "Ain't no reason t' be scared. I'm right here, an' whatever we gotta face can wait 'til mornin' … we'll face it together."

*.*.*

Her solitary form lingered next to the bed, unable to let the moment to watch him sleep pass. Carol reached out, her fingers brushing at the hair which had fallen over his eyes during his slumber. God, how she loved him. Tears had left her eyes red and stinging, her face numb, but a small smile bloomed over her lips as she leaned over and pressed a kiss to his brow. Her breath hitched as he grumbled drowsily and rolled onto his side, clutching her pillow and burying his face against its softness, his rest undisturbed.

Silently, she padded from the room, turning the knob so not even a soft click would alert him to her departure. She took a shuddering breath as she moved towards the stairs, the air conditioning a soothing balm to the rawness of her face. She didn't know how long she'd wept, but Daryl hadn't left her side, and he deserved whatever peace sleep might afford him. It tore at her bedraggled heart to pull herself away from his side, but she could no longer stay.

Bare toes curled happily into the plush carpet as she made her way to the kitchen, carrying her further away from Daryl. It was almost a physical ache to be away from him, and her steps quickened so she could return to him with all haste. It was because of him she felt lighter, the constriction in her chest easing enough to allow her to take an easier breath. It would take time – and probably countless sessions with Denise – but she would eventually heal. He loved her – which brought her untold joy – and was determined to show her she didn't have to live with immeasurable guilt when she had only been doing what was necessary in order to protect those she loved.

Carol didn't bother to turn on the fluorescent light in the kitchen, appreciating the soft glow from the bulb over the stove to guide her way. She didn't know how her ravaged eyes would contend with anything overly bright.

Her stomach grumbled again as she went to the pantry to rummage for something quick, frowning at the meager contents. Had the Hilltop not come through on their end of the bargain, or had the supplies just not been divvied up amongst the community yet? Sighing, she brought out a small step stool and dragged it over to the counter. Due to the lingering shaking of her limbs, she was careful as she balanced atop the countertop and reached high above the cabinets in search of the secret stash she kept hidden – mostly foodstuffs she knew Daryl favored – in the small space between the top of the cabinets and the ceiling. She would make sure to set things aside for his hunting sack, not wanting him to get caught off alone in the woods for days at a time with nothing to eat should he get stuck in a tree.

Climbing down, her foot had barely touched the ceramic tile when a voice reached out to her from the shadows of the kitchen table. "So that's where you keep the goodies, huh?"

Carol dropped the can of soup, narrowly missing her foot as her hand flew up to her throat, a small shriek escaping her parted lips. "Richard Grimes!" she hissed out. "How many times have I asked you _not_ to sneak up on me?!"

Rick rose from his seat at the table and approached her cautiously before drawing her trembling form into his arms and pressing a brotherly kiss to her brow. "I'm sorry, I thought you were just ignoring me. I've been sitting there since before you came in here." He let her go to peer down into her blotchy features. "I'd like to say you look a little better than the last time I saw you, but I can't."

Carol snorted and reached for the can which had rolled towards the stove. "Thanks." Her eyes narrowed as she regarded him. "And I'm not hoarding, if that's what you think. I just set a portion of what is given to me aside for Daryl. There are certain things he likes, and well …" She let her voice trail away, knowing he'd understand.

Rick leaned a hip against the island and watched her pour the chicken and stars into a bowl before setting it in the microwave. "Stars, huh?"

Her lips twitched with a touch of mirth. "He likes the stars better than noodles or rice," she explained, true amusement bubbling up in her at the absurdity of discussing canned soup in the middle of the night. It was the first time in longer than she could remember she'd actually felt genuine joyous emotion instead of the counterfeit feelings she was used to projecting to her family.

Rick grabbed a few bottles of water from the refrigerator and brought them over to the table as she sat down with her meager meal. "How are you really, Carol? You have to know you scared the hell out of us. I thought Daryl was going to lose his mind before we got you back to Alexandria."

Carol took several bites, sating her hunger before she met his gaze steadily. "That's only happened to me once before … a long time ago," she whispered darkly. "Thankfully, Ed wasn't here to beat it out of me. Seems like that was his go-to answer for everything." She reached out and squeezed his hand reassuringly before he could offer his sympathy. "It was just a panic attack, Rick."

He raised a skeptical brow. "Are we going to have to worry about a repeat? This gonna happen again?" He scrubbed a weary hand over his face. "I can't take the chance of us going up against these people again and you getting injured because of this. Daryl would never forgive me if anything happened to you."

Carol finished off the last few dregs of soup and rose to bring her bowl to the sink. "I'm dealing with it, ok? I'm going to see Denise, and Daryl is doing his best to help me sort through my issues. I'm going to be alright … I think."

Rick pushed to his feet and moved to her side, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I don't want you to think I want you at a hundred percent because you're one of our best fighters. I want you to get better because we love you, Carol. We might not always show it, but you're the heart of this group. We can't do this without you." He sighed regretfully. "It took me a long while to see that."

She smiled tremulously, her lower lip quivering before she was able to clamp her teeth over it and nod. "I'm not going anywhere."

Thundering footsteps pounded down the stairs, and a streak of blue vest and tousled chestnut hair flew past the kitchen archway on its way to the door. Rick called out to his brother, stopping him before he could run all the way to the front gate in a panic.

Daryl turned and met Carol's gaze where she stood next to Rick in the archway, her long legs bare beneath his own button-up she'd thrown on over her pajamas. "Thought … " He shook his head. "What're y' doin' down here?"

Carol leaned in against his chest as he pulled her into the circle of his arms. Pain flared behind her breastbone to see his fears so on display, a fear she'd left him behind. "I was hungry. I thought I would be back before you woke up." She yawned. "Rick kept me company while I had some soup."

Rick grinned at the possessive hold Daryl had on Carol. It was about time they began to work out what was in their hearts. Lord knows, it had taken them long enough. "I'm gonna grab some shut-eye before Jude decides she's ready to get up. Get some rest, you two."

"Night, Rick," Carol murmured, her voice muffled as Daryl's arms tightened around her. She knew she'd scared him with her absence, the rapid beat of his heart thundering beneath her ear. "Hey …"

"Y' were … I thought … " he stammered. "Didn't know how much of a head start y' had on me."

The guilt he felt for not trusting in her was evident on his face. She ran a hand up his chest and along his shoulder until she could reach his nape, kneading the knot of tension at the top of his spine. "I'm not running, Daryl. I promise, I'm not going anywhere without you," she whispered.

He was too much a part of her now. It would be easier to sever a limb than try to dig him out of her heart. She met him halfway, reaching up on her toes to close the distance between them and accept his kiss.

"Can we go back t' bed now or are y' still peckish?"

Carol snorted. "No, I'm good." And this time, she meant it.

 **A/n: I need to buy stock in Kleenex. Hope you all enjoyed! I want to thank each and every one of you for all the love and support you've thrown my way for this fic. Y'all rock! Great big buckets of love for BettyBubble, my awesome sauce beta. She pushes and nags and beats me with a metaphorical stick, which I desperately need to keep me focused. Love you so much, darling! Reviews are love!**


	8. What We're Fighting For

Chapter Eight - What We're Fighting For

 **A/n: Warning … this chapter contains adult themes.**

The warmth of the morning sun beat mercilessly through the windows, but its heat didn't stir the occupants of the bed. Nor did the sweet melody of birdsong which permeated the silence of the bedroom. Carol woke slowly on her own to the sound of a steady heartbeat beneath her ear. It took her a moment to catch her bearings, her body stiffening until her eyes cracked the minutest bit to assure her she was in the safety of her room … and the security of Daryl's arms.

She stifled a yawn and simply lay still, not wanting to disturb the soft snores emitting from his parted lips. How long had it been since she'd woken without the ghosts of her mind chasing her from slumber? Carol doubted she'd ever truly be rid of the burden of guilt she carried, but talking to Daryl and sharing her fears with him had been a step in the right direction, a step towards healing the scars on her soul.

After her midnight sojourn to the kitchen, she and Daryl had stayed up for hours in quiet conversation. They'd shares their fears, their hopes, their desire for whatever future they could have together in the months to come before exhaustion had won out and sent them both into a restless sleep. Carol knew, despite her reassurances, it would take time for him to believe she wouldn't leave him. Before he'd confessed his feelings for her, she wasn't sure she wouldn't have run. She'd given up on him ever returning her feelings, and the horrors of her recent past were more than she could bear alone. It had gotten to the point where running had seemed to be her best option.

Carol sighed and nuzzled her nose against his chest, reveling in his bare skin. She couldn't lose him … especially not now when she knew she owned his heart. It would be hard to push past her anguish and guilt, but she'd never stop fighting for him. He'd promised he would fight for the both of them, but she couldn't allow that. She wanted him to believe she'd always be there to watch his back. They were in this together now, even more than they had been before, and she would not fail him.

She wanted so badly to believe they were done with this rogue group and its elusive leader, but she wasn't delusional. She feared her family hadn't seen the last of them. It was imperative she talk to Denise as soon as possible. She needed to heal, to become stronger … for her family, for Daryl. During their little early morning chat, he'd told her how worried everyone had been about her. It had come as a shock, having thought she'd been quite convincing as the Mary Sunshine Stepford wife … so to speak.

Even her family; Carol had learned she was more important to them than she could ever have imagined. It went a long way towards cementing her to the community and strengthening the bond she already had with her family. She _mattered._ There would be no way she could run - even if she wanted to - without one or more of them coming after her to drag her home. At one time - after Terminus when she'd returned to the group – she'd thought leaving was what she wanted. Now she was certain it was the last thing she needed. Everything … _everyone …_ important to her was here in Alexandria.

Daryl snuffled slightly in his sleep and tossed an arm up over his eyes, the other tightening around her unconsciously. Carol smiled, her lips stretching wide against his warm skin. It wasn't often Daryl ever slept past the rising sun, but there had been little sleep to be found the night before. If waking in his arms every morning was guaranteed in the future they'd talked about, she was all in, she thought with a contented sigh.

For so long, she'd craved his embrace. She couldn't wait around with bated breath for something to come along and steal her happiness, couldn't just wait for the other shoe to drop as her gut roiled with dread. Carol could almost picture the dark frown which would mar his brow if he could read her thoughts. They'd agreed to take one day at a time, to live in the present and fight for what they wanted … together. _That_ was her new future.

Carol raised up on an elbow, careful not to jar him from his slumber, and stared down at his sleeping visage. A slow mischievous smile spread to the corners of her mouth as she let her fingers trail through the light dusting of hair below his navel, his skin warm where his t-shirt had ridden up. _Fight for what we want … oh, and right now, I want my Daryl,_ the words purred through her mind. And he _was_ hers, every word and deed the previous evening cementing their newfound relationship.

Her toes curled beneath the blanket as warmth flooded her entire being, thinking back on their previous encounters and what had started it all. She didn't want just sex, but rather that soul-deep connection which had formed from his care of her. Carol had always thought she'd loved him before, a love which had begun on Hershel's farm through their tentative friendship, but she'd never imagined he'd return her feelings on such a level. Not after everything they'd gone through since then. Their love was a gift, one she had no intention of squandering … especially when they didn't know what tomorrow would bring.

Carol chanced a glance up at his sleeping countenance, surprised he hadn't woken from her questing fingers. For a brief moment she wondered if she should let him sleep longer, but with a smile, she decided against it. She carefully eased the duvet aside and threw a leg over his hips, easing herself over to straddle him. If she'd been thinking clearly, she would've realized her mistake.

Daryl shot up off the mattress, nearly dislodging her, his strong hands gripping her upper arms as a growl rumbled from deep within his chest. Carol squeaked in alarm as she reached for him, hands cradling his face in her warm palms, hoping her touch would ground him. He stared back at her with wild blue eyes as he shook off the last remnants of sleep, but his grip still had yet to loosen.

"Shh, it's just me, Daryl," she crooned softly, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones in an attempt to soothe. She knew him just as well as he did her, and it was a grave error on her part to startle him from sleep. She'd seen him nearly take off Rick's head when he'd tried to wake him before. "I'm sorry … I'm sorry … it's just me."

She could tell the moment he came back to himself, realizing there was no threat – real or imagined – his body sighing with relief. It was replaced with a narrowing of his eyes as he took her in.

"Fuck, Carol. Th' hell were y' thinkin'?" he chided, rubbing soothing circles into her arms where the indentions of his fingers likely still remained. "What if I'd reached for th' knife I keep under my pillow?"

Carol ignored his blatant upset and leaned into him, her lips brushing softly against his. A sharp intake of air left his lips parted, and she wasted no time, her tongue delving in to taste him. She moaned into his mouth, feeling one hand curl around her hip as the other slipped up the back of her tank to caress the skin of her lower back.

They parted for air, and though he now looked a little more relaxed, she could still feel his ire. "You wouldn't hurt me, Daryl. Even muddled with sleep or in the grips of a horrible nightmare, you have never – would never – hurt me. Besides, that's my pillow, not yours."

"That ain't th' point." Daryl ducked his head, pressing a kiss to the hollow of her throat, unable to look directly at the emotion and trust pouring from her baby blues. "I don't think I could stand it if I did somethin' t' hurt y'. Even if it was unintentional."

Carol tilted his chin up, forcing him to meet her gaze. "Stop."

He nodded, sucking in a deep breath. He knew she hated it when he blamed himself for things not his fault, and apparently, she deemed this one of those times. He pulled her more tightly against his chest and stroked her back from nape to hip. "Whatcha even doin' up this early," he asked, glancing towards the window where he could judge the position of the sun rather than rely on her battery-operated clock. "Y' doin' ok?"

She smiled at the concern so evident on his features. "I'm fine … better than, actually. This was the first night my ghosts didn't chase me from my dreams."

"Maybe they were afraid they'd have t' deal with me," he deadpanned.

"Perhaps," she agreed, tracing a finger along his lips and watching his eyes darken and become hooded. There was a notable tension to his body, almost as if he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for rejection despite the hours they'd spent reassuring one another of their love. She felt it within herself, years of insecurity ingrained deep within her soul, but she wouldn't let it stand in their way. They'd come too far. She leaned in again and pressed her lips tenderly to his, a lingering kiss filled with devotion for the man she loved. "Thank you," she whispered reverently, "for taking such wonderful care of me when I … wasn't myself. No one has ever done something like that for me before."

Daryl pulled her closer and burrowed against her throat, breathing her in and thanking whatever deity who might be listening for bringing her back to him. "Love you. Jus' wanted y' back," he reaffirmed, his lips ghosting ever so gently against her soft skin. "I cain't lose y' now, Carol … I jus' … I cain't."

She could feel the stringent burn of tears behind her eyes as her arms crept up around his shoulders, holding him tightly as if she were afraid he'd be ripped from her embrace. "I love you too … so much. We're going to be ok."

No matter what awaited them tomorrow or the day after, she was certain they'd get through it together, and she'd burn anyone right to the ground who tried to take him from her.

With a questioning smile, she let her fingers toy with the collar of his shirt, slipping beneath to caress his warm skin. His eyes closed, a rush of air hissing past his teeth as she gave a tentative roll of her hips. God, how she enjoyed teasing him, despite the fact she kept her movements slow so as not to scare him off. They were embarking on new territory now, and she was still afraid of how he might react.

"Carol … what … what're y' …" Daryl stammered, his eyes cracking open just a bit to regard her seriously.

She shifted again in answer, her core beginning to ache as it pressed deliciously against the growing hardness beneath her. "I want to touch you, Daryl. You wouldn't let me before –"

He shook his head, his shaggy mane obscuring his face. "Not 'cause I didn't want y' to," he rasped as a wave of heat winged through his body, his nerve endings alight with pleasure. "Jus' wanted t' make sure this … _us_ … was what y' wanted. I wanted t' give y' everythin' I am, Carol, t' show y' what I could be for y'." He leaned into her touch as she brushed the hair away from his eyes. "Y' taught me touch wasn't somethin' I had t' fear."

A solitary tear rolled down her cheek, her lip trembling. "I'd never hurt you."

"I know that, but before … I wanted it t' be 'bout you. Show y' how much I love y' even if I couldn't say it then." Daryl reached for the hem of his t-shirt and swept it up over his head, tossing it onto the floor before he reached for her hands, bringing them to rest against the heated skin of his chest, allowing her to feel the rapid thrum of his heart where it beat against his ribs. "Touch me, Carol … please."

Her eyes slammed closed, the weight of his trust, his love, enveloping her in a cocoon of feelings she wasn't equipped to handle. The excess poured from her in the form of tears … happy tears for once. "I want this … you … us," she stammered helplessly, "because I love you. It's not some need to forget my pain, but rather to show you what's in my heart like I've never had the chance to do before. I want to share it all with you, Daryl."

He shivered against her, opening himself to accept her words, to believe them. Never in his life had Daryl felt such innate trust towards another person … especially those in his own family. He let it go and just let himself _live_ in this moment with the woman he loved, feeling himself catapulting towards a future he would fight for until his last breath. "I know."

Carol did away with her tank, tossing it to land atop Daryl's on the floor, melting into him with a moan as her skin came into contact with his. This was so much better than what they'd shared before, her hands roaming gently over his imperfect flesh, fingers tracing the many scars which littered his torso. A lifetime of pain, etched for all to see, but to her it was a beautiful reminder of all he'd survived. Her brave warrior.

She could feel his breath hitch with every gentle exploration, his eyes locked with hers, his fears giving way to desire, her bold acceptance giving him the confidence to let the remainder of his walls come crumbling down. Carol rolled her hips, needing the friction where she ached most. She wanted nothing more than to feel him moving inside her, but there was so much of him to explore, to kiss, touch and taste. She was greedy for him, but at the same time, she wanted to take it slow.

When Daryl had gone to her that first night, he'd never expected things to progress this far. A single encounter to show her he wasn't some inept backwoodsman who didn't know the first thing about pleasing his woman. He'd wanted to prove to her he could be what she needed, never expecting her to actually choose him. Now as she grinded her core against his throbbing cock, it took every ounce of restraint to stop himself from cumming like a green kid with his first girlfriend.

His fingers twisted in her cotton shorts, trying to slow her movements as his lips traveled down the long ivory column of her throat, painting her freckles with his tongue. He swept his hands up along her waist, teasing the indention where he knew she was ticklish, amused when she was caught between a laugh and a moan, for he didn't stop his questing lips from tracing the outline of her delicate collarbones, teeth nipping until she gasped her pleasure.

She tasted like sin, and he would chance spending an eternity in hell for the chance to worship her body. He paused a moment to catch his breath, his eyes locking with hers and his calloused hands slowly trekked upwards, thumbs skimming the undersides of her breasts before covering the twin globes of creamy perfection. "Y' so beautiful," he murmured, once again reining in his lust as she wiggled her hips and put more pressure on his groin. "But damn, if y' ain't gonna be th' death o' me," he growled, latching on to a nipple and sucking it deep within the hot recesses of his mouth.

Carol mewled loudly, one hand curling into his long hair as the other scored his nape with her nails. "Daryl …" She didn't know how much longer she'd be able to withstand his slow, sweet torture. It was her turn to touch, to taste, to have him at her gentle mercy, yet here she was, putty in his hands once again. "Daryl, please."

Daryl rolled with her, ravaging her mouth with a dirty kiss as he felt her legs hitch around his waist. He bucked against her, unable to help himself and growled against her mouth. "Tell me whatcha need, sweetheart. Anythin' y' want … it's yours."

She could hardly breathe through the pleasure as he rolled a nipple between his fingers. "I need … need … inside me. Please … now!" she breathed through wanton pants, completely uninhibited in her desire, knowing he'd never judge her.

"Y' sure?" he asked, no less affected by the feelings she evoked in his own body.

"Yes," she nodded fervently, eager to take that last step with him.

He trailed his lips in a hot path from her breasts to the waistband of her skimpy cotton shorts, nipping just below her bellybutton and drawing another breathy moan from deep within her chest. He would give her the whole goddamn world if she would continue making those sounds for him. His fingers caught in the elastic, tugging her shorts and underwear down her legs in one fell swoop to toss onto their growing pile of clothes. The breath caught in his lungs when he gazed upon her completely bare, flushed with the desire, the evidence of which glistened amongst her silky folds. He shuddered, knowing he'd done that to her, pride swelling within his chest.

Of course, Daryl had seen her naked before, had drunk from the well of her arousal, but this time - this time, knowing she loved him – it made all the difference. He snapped himself out of his lust-induced fugue as he noticed a hint of trepidation cloud her azure irises, realizing he'd lingered too long.

He leaned forward and nuzzled his face against her belly, peppering her skin with light as air kisses. "So beautiful … my woman," he whispered, reveling in the feel of her fingers scratching along his scalp. "Love y' so much, Carol."

The tension left her body as she let him go, watching as he pulled away to divest himself of the rest of his clothes. He didn't know how long he'd last, and he prayed he wouldn't disappoint her. A rush of air hissed through his teeth as he came to rest in the cradle of her thighs, her heat and wetness enveloping him as she wrapped her legs around him. He was convinced he'd very likely die of sheer pleasure once he was inside her.

Daryl buried his face against her throat, a very undignified whimper seeking escape from his lips as he tried to rein in his lust. Everything he was feeling was too much, too right, too … He shivered as Carol glided a hand over his back, tracing along his scars in a soothing motion. He couldn't keep her waiting any longer.

He caught her lips in a loving kiss as he lined himself up and pushed past her tight ring of muscles, breaking away with a gasp as he felt how tight she was. Her eyes were panicked as they met his, wide and fearful, and he gnashed his teeth, afraid he'd hurt her.

"Don't stop … I'm ok … don't leave me," she whispered brokenly.

"Never gonna hurt y' … I promise." Daryl had heard horror stories of her marriage, even some she hadn't wanted to share with him. He knew having sex with her husband hadn't always been consensual. He didn't move any further; instead he kissed her gently, coaxing her to feel pleasure and block out her memories of pain associated with the act. His eyes blew wide, a gasp on his lips as he felt her relax, her muscles unclenching and sucking him in further. "Y' a'right? Whatever y' need."

"I need _you,"_ she mewled against his throat, nipping sharply with her teeth and earning a growl in response. "Move, baby. I need you to move. Make me feel again."

Daryl kissed her again before bracing himself above her on one arm, his free hand cradling her cheek as he gave a tentative thrust, too afraid of hurting her for anything more vigorous. He set a slow pace, curbing his more primal instincts to show her he could be gentle and patient, to show her he could be the man she needed.

Carol writhed beneath him, loving his tender regard, but wanting more, needing it more than her next breath. She pressed a kiss to his palm and dragged his hand to her breast, applying pressure to his fingers so he'd know just what it was she craved. "More, baby … please. I need more."

Sweat broke out on his brow as he gave in to her wanton plea, increasing his pace as his thumb stroked over the taut bud. He was rewarded by her cries, the arching of her back and the rake of her nails over his chest. He'd never felt so alive, the mix of gentle love-making and fiery need spurring him to new heights until he could feel the pull in his belly and the spark of electricity at the base of his spine.

His thrusts became erratic and he knew he was going to find release before she was even close. His hand skimmed lower across the firm plane of her belly, lower still until her warm wet folds closed over his fingers. She cried out some incoherent form of his name as his thumb circled the little bundle of nerves hidden at the top of her sex. Her eyes became sloe-lidded and her lips parted on a sharp gasp, her hips rising to meet his every thrust.

"Carol …"

Her fingers fisted in his hair, dragging him down to her as she fell apart in his arms, crashing headfirst into an abyss of pleasure. Daryl wrapped both arms around her, cradling her to him as he found his own release, growling out her name against the crook of her neck. He was a boneless mass of heavy limbs atop her, but damn if she would loosen her grip enough for him to move away.

"Sweetheart, I'm crushin' y'," he complained, not wanting to cause her undue pain.

"No!" Carol forced out amidst a raspy breath and a firm shake of her head. "Stay …"

Daryl shifted enough of his weight where he could remain in her embrace, watching her with his worried blue gaze. "Y' ok? I didn't hurt y', did I?"

Carol huffed a laugh, her face wreathed in smiles. "You're kidding, right?" She leaned up enough to kiss the corner of his mouth and nuzzle her nose alongside his own. "It was amazing. _You_ are amazing and wonderful and perfect and mine and … I love you so much, Daryl."

He rolled onto his back, bringing her with him to lay sprawled across his chest. "Love y' too, sweetheart." He yawned, sated and feeling the hours of sleep he'd missed the night before creeping up on him. "Hey … think Rick would say anythin' if I didn't show up for gate duty this mornin'?"

Carol shrugged and pulled the duvet up to cover them both before burrowing against his shoulder with a yawn. "You're due for a day off. I think he'll understand."

 **A/n: Well … uhm … hope you enjoyed! Please let me know what you think! Loads of love to BettyBubble for being an outstanding beta. I love you, darling!**


	9. First Day on Earth

Chapter Nine: First Day on Earth

Carol pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat and reached behind Daryl to turn off the spray of the shower. "See, Pookie, showering daily can have its perks," she teased as she reached for a towel and stepped out of the walk-in.

A sound somewhere between a whimper and a gasp made its way past his lips as he watched her go, remaining immobile where his back was pressed against the tiles as he waited for his heart to slow once more into its normal rhythm. _Gawd! My woman's tryin' t' kill me,_ he thought to himself, willing his trembling legs to remain beneath him. All the while her husky laughter sent a jolt of pure bliss stuttering through his body. He promised himself he'd spend the rest of his days making her happy, the sound of her quiet chuckling like a balm to his battered soul.

"Come on, Daryl. I'm surprised someone hasn't come up here yet to see if we're still alive." Her azure eyes sparkled and danced at him through the mirror as he reached for a towel and began to rub it vigorously over his long locks.

"I'm sure they know we're ok with all th' noise y' been makin'," he teased right back, his face cherry red.

Carol snorted and clasped her bra, unable to stop watching his reflection. She doubted she'd ever get enough of him, and now she was free to be with him whenever she liked. It still made her wonder _why_ he wanted her to be such a part of his life when there were far more attractive women in their group – at least in her opinion – but he'd claimed no one had ever touched his heart as she had. She'd always scoffed at such superstitious nonsense such as soulmates. If the theory held any credibility, how had she ended up with a monster such as Ed? But Daryl could easily make her change her mind. If there _was_ such a thing as finding the other half of her soul, she was convinced she'd found it in him.

"Where'd this come from?" he asked, holding up the clothes she'd chosen for him. The tags were still attached.

Carol shrugged. "I dunno. They were on your bed when I went looking in your room for something for you to wear. Maybe someone sent them over from the pantry?" She looked at the tag on the crisp new pair of jeans. "At least they're your size."

He grunted a response and began dressing as she turned her attention back to the mirror, hairbrush in hand. Her pearly teeth sank into her lower lip as she studied the dark circles beneath her eyes. It would take more than just one night of decent sleep to rid herself of those. But other worries crowded her mind, pushing her lack of physical attributes aside.

She startled as Daryl wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed a kiss to her temple. "Hey, what's with th' frown? Y' were happy jus' a minute ago. Y' thinkin' about your session with Denise?" he asked gently.

"A little," she replied, ducking her head. She sucked in a deep breath as he tilted her chin up to meet his gaze.

"No hidin', remember?"

"I … I'm worried … " She sighed, irritated with her inability to voice her feelings when she'd perfected the art of hiding them so long ago. "After what happened, what if no one trusts me anymore."

"What? Why wouldn't they?" he asked, unable to hide his incredulity. "Carol, you're th' most trustworthy person I've ever known. Why –"

She reached for her baby blue Henley and pulled it on over her head. "Daryl, I totally lost it. If it happens again, I could put the others in danger. There's every reason not to trust me."

Daryl turned her to face him, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles along her jaw where his hands came to cup her neck. "Then it's a good thing y' ain't gotta worry about th' others an' what they're gonna think of y'," he said with a small smile.

"What do you mean?" she asked, thoroughly puzzled.

He looked uncertain for barely a second before he sighed and explained. "You're with me from now on, my partner. We ain't been recruitin' lately, an' if Aaron wants to start that up again, he can take Eric with 'im like he did before. You'll go on runs with me, huntin', scoutin', whatever." She opened her mouth to protest, but a well-placed finger to her lips cut her off. "Ain't jus' for you, Carol … it's for me too."

She groaned. "But that's even worse. It would be horrible to lose someone in our family because they couldn't trust me or because I hesitated to do what needed to be done, but, Daryl … I can't be responsible if something happens to you."

Daryl blew a frustrated breath out between his teeth. He'd known it wouldn't be easy to convince her, but he was determined to make her see this was what they both needed. "Yeah, well, I'm done goin' through those gates an' leavin' y' behind. I'm done wonderin' if you're ok, if you're eatin' enough, or if you're getting any sleep." He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her brow. "If you're with me, we can work through our issues together. We can start t' heal."

Instead of arguing, she leaned into his embrace. "I worry about you too … when you leave for weeks at a time. As much as I adore Aaron, I don't trust him to have your back completely."

He caught her gaze, holding it, his smoky blue eyes pleading with her. "Say yes."

"Daryl …"

"Say yes," he persisted. "Otherwise, I'ma end up stuck behind these walls with y'."

Carol snorted. "You'd be ready to kill someone for sheer entertainment purposes after the first week."

"Exactly! So, t' save some poor schmuck … say yes."

She shook her head in exasperation as she mulled it over. Yes, she was terrified she'd somehow fail him, yet he trusted her implicitly. He seemed confident it was what they _both_ needed, and if she were honest with herself, she could see how time away from Alexandria with him would do her some good. She would still be contributing, still be fighting, with one little perk … Daryl would be there at her side. There would be time for their relationship to grow and strengthen, all while providing for their family. How could she say no?

Carol let her fingers slide up his wide chest to tangle in the hair trailing his shoulders. "Alright, fine … yes!"

*.*.*

A serene smile graced her lips as Carol followed Daryl downstairs, her fingers entwined with his as if he needed the touch to assure him she was really going to be alright. It delighted her that he was no longer afraid to be open with his affection in front of their family. It wasn't an attempt to show the others she belonged to him, but rather a sense of need to have her by his side, a need to show her just how much he cared. A warm ball of happiness now resided behind her breastbone where before her guilt and pain had once dwelled. It was still there – probably always would be – but her joy dimmed it exponentially, giving her room to breathe. Hopefully, after some time on Denise's couch, she could further her healing process.

The front door closed as they reached the bottom of the stairs, and a haggard-looking Rick leaned back against it with a weary sigh. The relief he exuded upon seeing them, took Carol by surprise. "Well, it's about time. I was ready to send out a search party for you two."

"Pfft," Daryl scoffed. "Ain't like this place is gonna fall apart without us for one day."

Rick crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his brother. "Really? How about we go on into the kitchen and have a little chat about that."

Daryl narrowed his eyes on him. "Man, when's th' last time y' slept. You're such a bitch when y' don't get enough rest."

Carol's eyes widened as she stepped through the archway into the kitchen and took in the scene before her. At least, she tried before she was practically tackled by Carl and a happily babbling Judith.

Carl's grip was fierce as Carol took the baby and nuzzled her neck, one arm going around the boy. She could see the beginning of tears in his eyes, and it wrenched her heart. "Hey … none of that now. I'm just fine."

"We were so worried, Carol."

Michonne looped an arm around Carl's shoulder, pulling him away and handing Carol a steaming cup of herbal tea. "I'm so glad you're feeling better." A small grin teased the corner of her lips. "Rick told me about your soup run last night."

Carol took a sip of the brew and sighed blissfully. "I was starving."

Maggie was next to pull Carol in for a bear hug. "You look so much better, Carol. Is there anything you need?"

Her eyes searched out Daryl's across the island where he stood next to the coffee pot, overwhelmed and beseeching him to rescue her from the press of family.

He gave her the barest of nods before he took a sip of his coffee and waved a hand to indicate the array of goodies spread out over the counter. "What th' hell's all this? I know we got a lot from the Hilltop for what we did, but this looks like a fuckin' potluck we wasn't invited to," he said, indicating the untouched food.

Michonne chuckled lightly, causing Rick to glare in exasperation. She ignored him and rushed to explain. "These are all gifts for Carol."

"What?" the hunter asked, his brows drawn in a puzzled frown.

"It seems no matter how we tried to hide what happened to Carol during the raid, word got out," Rick added, taking a seat on one of the stools. "I've had folks coming through here one after the other. They all want to know how you are, Carol."

"Everyone loves her," Maggie interjected. "In the short time we've been here, she's gone out of her way to help these people, to be their friend, their teacher, their protector. Of course, they're going to want to know she's better."

Carol stared down at the dishes of cookies, muffins, casseroles and what looked like a cured venison shank from Olivia's smokehouse. "But –"

Michonne pointed to a basket of clothing on the end of the dining table. "Angie and Lana went through the clothes bins at the pantry and brought over some things that might suit you. Some for Daryl too, which I had Carl bring up to his room."

"Was wondering where they came from," he mused aloud, running a hand over the thick denim of his jeans.

"And those who are either crappy cooks or have nothing else to offer," Rick grinned, "well, they came by to volunteer to take a few of your shifts until you're feeling better."

Carol ducked her head and held Judith just a little closer, hiding the emotion which would at any moment begin to stream down her face. She blinked rapidly, not wanting her family to think her unstable in any way. "I … I don't know what to say," she stammered out softly.

Rick laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to say anything. I know you wanted to be Susie Homemaker when we first arrived here, trying to blend in and be invisible, but … that's not who you are. You're a nurturer, and that's not something you can hide. You don't just have us … your _family_ … who love and need you. You have a community."

Daryl took Judith from her arms and then pulled Carol into his side, pressing a kiss to her brow. He smirked at the sincere look on his brother's face. "We gonna sit around the fire pit on the patio now and sing kumbaya?" he teased, feeling Carol's need for some levity like it was a tangible thing. "But I'll tell y' now … y' start fartin' rainbows, I'm out."

*.*.*

Daryl narrowed his eyes at his brother as Rick made his way up the walkway leading to the infirmary, smirking with what appeared to be amusement if the gleam in his pale eyes was anything to go by. Considering how much work the man had on his plate, Daryl was no doubt the source of Rick's present glee and he'd had to come down to investigate the newest rumors. He groaned inwardly and took another drag off his cigarette before pitching it over the hedge.

Rick took a seat at the patio table with it's wicker furniture and said … nothing. He simply continued to smirk. Until Daryl couldn't take it any longer. "Y' got somethin' on your mind, Grimes? Spit it out!" the hunter growled, sinking a little lower in his chair.

That infuriating smirk morphed into a toothy grin followed by a low chuckle. "Well … I had some folks stop by the pantry while Abraham and I were doing inventory in the armory, and they had the most fascinating tale to tell."

Daryl groaned and leaned his head back against the curve of his chair. "S'that right … y' plan on getting' t' th' point sometime before we all die of old age?"

Rick snorted and then settled more fully into his chair, removing the canteen from his belt and taking a long swallow. He knew it was rankling Daryl to drag it out, but how often could he get away with teasing his brother. "Seems they were so happy to see Carol out and about, they wanted to stop and speak to her, but … a very surly redneck – who will remain nameless – tossed her over his shoulder and made off with her. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Daryl blushed to the roots of his hair. "I might."

"Oh, yeah?"

The hunter sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Carol was gonna be late seein' th' doc, and I reckon everybody in this burg wanted t' stop her on th' way t' th' clinic t' chat," he huffed in exasperation. "Took us twenty-five minutes an' we were only a block from th' house!"

Rick's brows flew up towards his hairline. "Was she mad?"

Daryl blew out a puff of air. "What d'you think?" he shrugged. "Naw, I think she was gettin' a bit panicky – not that she'd let it show – but I could tell. When I set her down inside, she jus' gave me that look before disappearing into th' back with th' doc."

Rick winced. "The one where she makes you feel as if you're five?"

"Yup … that's th' one."

"Damn."

Daryl drummed his fingers on the table, unable to quiet his fidgeting. "I … uhm … I wanted t' talk t' y' about somethin'. Me an' Carol –"

"Are together now, right? Really together?"

Daryl nodded.

"And in light of what happened day before yesterday, I'm assuming you want to be paired with her in your duties?"

"It's th' way it's gotta be, brother," he said, using the term of endearment to soften the blow. "She needs me, an' I wanna be there for her. Cain't lose her again, Rick."

"You sure you want to take her out on runs? Will that be the best thing for her right now?" Rick asked, concerned for them both.

"Gonna check with th' doc, but me an' Carol have already discussed it. We've always been good at watchin' out for th' other. Now ain't no different. I take that back … Actually, it's more important than ever. I need her, man … jus' as much as she needs me."

Rick sighed and leaned his forearms on the tabletop. "If you're sure, I don't have a problem with rearranging the schedules." He would've said more, but the door to the clinic opened and Carol stepped outside.

Daryl was out of his chair like a shot, enveloping her in his embrace when he reached her. "Hey, how'd it go? Y' a'right?" he asked in his gentlest tone, a finger under her chin tipping her gaze up to his. Her eyes were red-rimmed and a little puffy, her nose pink and irritated, a sure sign she'd been crying. "Session was ok? 'Cause if it wasn't, I'll do m' damnedest t' track down another therapist."

"I know you'd try," Carol laughed softly. "Everything's fine, Daryl."

He traced a salty track her tears had left on her cheek with the lightest touch of his finger. "Y' been cryin', though."

She leaned up and kissed his cheek before burrowing against his chest. "But it was a _good_ kind of crying. It helped a lot, and I'm looking forward to meeting with her again. She's a wonderful listener, and offers sound advice," she assured him.

"A'right … I'm glad y' think she can help y'."

Carol peered up at him from beneath her lashes and gifted him with her tiniest smile. "I told her about Ed … my Sophia …" She sighed heavily and reached up to wipe away an errant tear. "How it all started with the group at the quarry, Hershel's farm … I could have talked all day, but she thought it best we stop for now. Denise said she didn't want to delve into anything else until tomorrow."

Daryl leaned back enough to be able to look down into her face. "And how d'you feel about that? I know how impatient y' can be." He snorted a laugh when she pinched his side and grinned. "Seriously, though … it helped t' talk, right?"

Carol nodded. "It did. Who knows, if my time on the couch helps me, perhaps you might feel like having a session or two of your own."

He shook his head and turned to steer her towards the street. He wasn't quite ready to discuss his past with a stranger, not by any means. "Don't know about that. I'd rather jus' talk t' you."

"You know I'm always here for you."

A series of whistles sounded from the gate, drawing their attention. Rick was running towards the front gate, Michonne hot on his heels, responding to Carl and Enid where they stood on the parapet pointing their rifles over the walls. Daryl knew the teens wouldn't be doing so if the threat was a few walkers. No, they had live ones at the gate.

Carol didn't even glance in his direction before she shot off down the walkway, heading for the source of the possible threat. Both her knife and handgun were within easy reach, but Daryl quickly overtook her and pushed her behind him. It sent a thrill through her, knowing he wanted to protect her, but it also made her angry to think he didn't believe she could still take care of herself. They _would_ be having that discussion later.

Rick waited as Spencer pulled back the screen, leaving the gate firmly closed. No one would be allowed entry until they were determined to be friend or foe. He looked up to Carl who had the binoculars pressed to his eyes, searching the area nearest the front gate – from the spaces between the burned out, abandoned houses, the cars which had been purposed as walker traps, to the distant tree line where it began further down the road leading into Alexandria.

"What do you see, son?" he asked, wanting to know if there were more than the two men and their women he had to worry about.

"It's just them, Dad. They left their car just over the rise off to the side of the road," Carl confirmed.

They were still too far away to make out their features, but the men were struggling to hold their women. Daryl gnawed at the inside of his lip as he watched and then glanced down at Carol as she laid a soothing hand on his arm.

"Should we go help them?" she asked, furtively looking between Daryl and Rick. "We could send out a team to check the area to make sure this isn't an ambush."

"I don't want to risk our people," Rick murmured quietly as the strangers became more solid and he was able to get a better look at them.

"Son of a bitch!"

"What is it, Daryl? Do you know them?" Carol asked.

The hunter jerked his arm out of her grasp and launched himself at the gate, prepared to beat the piss out of the blond man carrying a very familiar crossbow on his back. "That's th' bastard left me for dead in th' forest after I offered him sanctuary here," he hissed.

Rick knew there was no stopping him, and he and Carol followed after Daryl as he darted through the gate towards the four. Abraham and Glenn shot after them, as well, hoping to help get everyone safely back behind the walls before walkers – or worse – noticed the group in the road.

"Y' got a lot of nerve showin' yer face here after what y' did!"

The blond stopped, the woman cradled in his arms, and met Daryl's stare head-on. "I know, but …" He looked down lovingly at his injured wife before meeting Daryl's gaze again, desperation twisting his gnarled features. "We didn't have anywhere else to go."

The other man held his own woman against his chest, his dark eyes pleading. "Please, help them."

Carol moved to his side despite the strangled hiss Daryl made, shaking off his hand as he reached for her. "Bring them inside. We'll sort them out while the two of you have a nice chat with Rick," she said firmly, her tone brooking no objection. The women looked to have been severely beaten, and there was no way she'd just leave them out on the road for whatever might come along.

"Thank you –"  
"I take it the two of you had nothing to do with their injuries?" she wanted to know. Their answer would weigh in as to whether they lived or died. She knew Daryl wouldn't allow anyone who laid hands on a woman to remain inside their walls, despite what Rick decided.

"No, ma'am," the brunette replied, cradling his fair wife closer to his body. "I'd never hurt my Amber like this … I swear."

Carol shot a look at Rick, who put away the Colt and nodded at Abraham and Glenn to help. As the ginger took the battered and bruised body from Dwight, Daryl stalked forward and ripped the crossbow off his back, pointing it at the two men and motioning them towards the open gates of Alexandria. He didn't stop until they reached the house where Morgan had recently built a cell in the basement. Only then did he lower the weapon, disarming them and pushing them past the barred doorway, the key grating in the lock helping some of the tension ease from his shoulders.

He wanted to wait on the interrogation until Carol came with news from the infirmary, but Daryl knew Rick wasn't going to want to delay. He wished he could be as calm as his brother. As it was, he felt like a caged panther, prowling back and forth in front of the bars as he lovingly held the familiar weight of his crossbow.

Daryl flinched away as Rick laid a hand to his shoulder. It had been a long time since he'd reacted in such a way towards his brother, and hoped the man would understand it wasn't personal. He settled the bow on his back and took up a casual stance against the wall, his twitchy fingers toying with the handle of his buck knife.

The two incarcerated men pressed themselves to the bars as Abraham came down the stairs, eager for news of their wives. Abe winced as he got a good look at the blond's face. "Damn, but don't you look like something the cat dragged in … and then shit out." He turned his back on Rick's disapproving stare and moved over to stand beside Daryl. "Carol's helping the doc patch up the new women before she heads this way." Abraham grinned. "She didn't want you to worry."

Daryl blushed scarlet and glared at his outspoken friend, but didn't say anything. Rick, however, was curious. "How bad is it?"

"The little blonde had a dislocated shoulder and various bruises to her face and upper body. Same goes for the other one, though her wrist was injured instead of her shoulder. Someone put them both through hell. Doc expects a full recovery though."

The relief which swept through the cell was palpable. Mark dropped down on the chair in the corner and Dwight slumped against the bars. "Thank you," he said sincerely, "for helping them."

Rick crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing as he studied the pair. "Who are you? How did those women sustain their injuries?" he asked the most pressing questions first. "Daryl, here, didn't seem too happy to see you again, Dwight, is it?"

Daryl growled lowly from his corner. "Yeah, s'right. Offered him an' his wife a place here with us, an' instead, they stole from me … left me for dead." And if he had been anyone else, he might have died out there with no weapon aside from his knife and a good ten-mile trek on foot. Luckily, he knew how to survive and had stumbled upon a fuel truck to get him back to town. "Don't look like your boss was too thrilled t' have y' back."

"Yeah, well, hindsight 20/20 and all that. I was thinking of Sherry at the time. She'd just lost her sister, and she never was one built for a life out on the road."

Mark scoffed. "Should've taken your chances."

Dwight sat down on the cot and brought a hand to his scarred face. "You're right," he acknowledged. His eyes sought out Rick's penetrating gaze. "Negan was going to kill me, but Sherry … she bartered herself, promised to be his wife if he would spare me."

"And left you with a nice parting gift," Abraham deadpanned.

"So," Rick drawled suspiciously, "you didn't like this Negan person taking your wife and decided to accept Daryl's previous offer of sanctuary? It doesn't work like that, I'm afraid. And it still doesn't explain how those two women came to be so badly beaten."

"Negan took them both as his wives … blackmailed them into accepting his good will. He was with them last night when he found out what had happened at the satellite outpost. They just so happened to be a convenient target."

Mark frowned at his buddy. "Show him the thing, man."

"What thing?" Daryl snarled quietly, taking a menacing step towards the cell.

Dwight pulled a beaten notebook from a pocket of his black cargos. "We didn't come here without something valuable to trade for your hospitality." He hung his head, his fingertips tracing over the worn cover. "When Negan agreed to take Sherry as his wife, I started gathering as much information as possible to use against him. The names of his lieutenants, how many outposts there are, how many saviors man each outpost, the communities from which he demands tribute, how to get around certain defenses, everything you need to know to bring him and his operation down … it's all in here."

"Holy shitballs!" Abraham breathed, sharing a loaded look with his comrades.

"And you're just willing to hand it over in exchange for –"

"A place here in your community," Mark was quick to answer. "We'll fight to protect it, every one of us. We're not afraid to contribute."

Daryl stepped up to stand beside Rick. "How do we know this ain't a trap?"

Rick rubbed his hand over his bearded chin thoughtfully. "We'll need to get everyone together to discuss this, send out a few scouts to see if this all adds up." He smirked at the two prisoners. "In the meantime, our new friends here will cool their heels in the cell."

Tara came down the stairs with a tray bearing a few bottles of water, two bowls of soup and a box of saltines. "Hey, guys, relax," she smiled warmly at the members of her family. "Just me, ok? Morgan came by the house and said we had guests."

"He with you?" Daryl asked as Rick opened the cell door, so she could deliver her burden, his gun trained on the two men.

"Yeah, he's waiting upstairs."

"Good … he can take a shift guarding these two while we have a family meeting."

*.*.*

Carol sat cross-legged in the middle of Daryl's bed, admiring his bare chest as he paced restlessly. Her eyes drifted lower to the low-slung waistband of his navy sleeping pants, and she bit at her lip. "Why don't you come to bed? We've got a big day ahead of us tomorrow."

She could understand his anxiety. The meeting with their family had been rife with tension as they'd discussed the new development on the Negan front. If the information contained in Dwight's notebook was accurate, they could end the war without the enemy knowing they were coming. Though she had to admit, she'd been more than a little surprised to know about more outlying communities like the Hilltop.

It had been a unanimous vote. They would investigate the outposts and then try to establish relations with the new communities. They would need the numbers to take on the Saviors.

"I cain't, Carol. Got too much shit on m' mind," he grumbled, his hand rising to his mouth to mutilate his cuticle.

"Then why don't you let me distract you," she purred, a smile in her voice.

He shot her a loaded look and resumed his pacing. "I don't know how y' can be so fuckin' calm. 'Specially with havin' t' go out there tomorrow when y' should be havin' another session with th' doc."

"We'll only be gone overnight."

Daryl grumbled under his breath, and Carol could only make out a few words … shelter … walkers … stubborn woman … causing her to hide a grin behind her hand.

"We'll be armed, Daryl, and it's not like we haven't been in tight spots before. This is just a routine scouting mission," she tried to reason.

"Carol, what if –"

Having enough of his anxious pacing, she rose from the bed and approached him, relieved to see him stop and face her. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and pressed a kiss to the pulse beating beneath his jaw. She hummed in delight when he crushed her to his chest. "We're going to be fine. Taking the bike will make it easy to get around in case there are roadblocks, there's a hunting cabin close to the outpost we'll be watching, so we will have shelter, and no one knows we're coming. We'll be back the next morning and Denise said I can talk with her then."

Daryl buried his face against the crook of her neck, breathing her in. "If somethin' happens t' you …"

"It won't. We can do this."

He pulled her in more tightly against him and let her warmth soothe him. Her fingers tangled in his hair, drawing him in for a kiss, and he lost himself, pushing his worries aside and letting himself simply _feel._ He was well aware of the danger they faced, but he couldn't see himself going without her. The need to have her at his side was far too great. They were partners in every way now, but it would take time to rid himself of the fear of losing her … if that was even possible.

Carol sighed blissfully as he peppered her throat with kisses, inching her backwards towards the bed. They had a chance now against this new threat … at least he hoped, still unwilling to trust the newcomers until he'd checked out their information firsthand.

"You're still lost in your head, Daryl," she scolded, tweaking his nipple until his eyes cleared and he returned to the present. "Focus on us, baby. Just us."

And he did. "Love you."

Carol arched into his touch, her eyes locked with his as heat coiled low in her belly. "So much."

THE END

A/n: OMG, I can't believe it's over. Mels, I swear I never thought your prompt was going to be this huge story. I really hope everyone enjoyed it. I had such a good time writing it. All the love for everyone who read and reviewed and shared this journey with me.

Great big buckets of love for my great betas: BettyBubble and Geektaire, and the rest of my Pony girls Marie1063 and CLADD for their incredible support. Love love love you all.


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